


Princes of The Universe

by AmyPound



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam was adopted by Crowley And Aziraphale, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood, Happy Ending, Ineffable Dads, Ineffable Family, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, The three of them share one braincell, These idiots as dads, Will add tags as I go, and its usually in adam, family au, they are a family of three over dramatic supernatural beings, this is the result
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyPound/pseuds/AmyPound
Summary: Adam J. Fell awoke on the day of his 11th Birthday knowing he was the antichrist. But his parents, an angel and a demon, had developed a plan to save the world. With his dads and his friends by his side they face Armageddon itself.He just wasn't sure they could pull it off.





	1. No Man Could Understand, My Power is in My Own Hand

**Author's Note:**

> The Ineffable family AU I never thought I'd write has ballooned completely out of control. The plan is this will be six parts. I had originally planned to write a long one shot and this is what it's become. 
> 
> I'm soft. 
> 
> Thanks to my good irl Angel friend who has put up with my shouting and held my hand while I've talked things out. She's amazing.

Chapter 1: No Man Could Understand, My Power is in My Own Hand

Adam J. Fell woke up the morning of his 11th Birthday with a pit in his gut. He had been warned by his fathers time and time again what was supposed to happen today.

Today, he would come into his full power as the antichrist.

Then, a hell hound would appear before him, and it would begin the countdown to the apocalypse where he would end the world. 

But hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Adam laid in the bed for just a little longer than he normally would have. It _was_ his birthday, he figured he was allowed. And even if he wasn’t, he didn’t particularly care. Adam rolled himself over and tried desperately to fall back asleep. If he slept past 3, well Dad might be mad (accuse him of sloth) but he also couldn’t somehow name the hell hound if he was asleep. And then neither of his dads could be mad at that. And he’d save the world! He could do this. He could do this.

Right?

There was a sudden crash down stairs and Adam jumped.

“Shit,” he heard Pop’s voice carry up the stairs. Adam took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart down.

“Watch your language!” Dad chided. Adam could just picture the look he was giving Pop. “Adam could be up by now.”

“And he’s heard far worse living in this house, I assure you, Angel,” Pop snapped back. “Now help me move this present.”

“I can’t, I’m making his breakfast. And Crepes are delicate.”

He didn’t hear Pop’s sigh in return really, but Adam knew he did all the same. “What in heaven am I going to do with you Angel?”

“Usually whatever you like…”

Adam had to stop this before it got gross and they forgot to put up a sound blocking miracle. Again. “You two are both gross, you know that?” He shouted from his bed. He pushed himself up and sat up right, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Oi!” Pop shouted. “Hasn’t your dad taught you eaves dropping isn’t proper or polite or whatever?”

“Yeah, but you told me to do it anyway when it’s useful!” He slid off his bed and wrapped himself up in his red tartan dressing gown, a compromise in styles, he had always thought.

“Crowley,” Dad chided Pop, again. “Uhh, Adam, dear, since you’re awake, we do have crepes down here. If you’re hungry.”

“On my way.” He said finally stepping into his slippers and out of his room. He padded down the hall and down the stairs, past pictures of Dad and Pop throughout the centuries (ancestors if anyone ever asked). More recent ones had Adam in them too. And those were much more public, just in case.

At the bottom of the stairs he saw Dad trying desperately to turn the iPad back on so he could check the recipe again. His khaki apron covered in the residue of his baking efforts today. Pop had given up whatever manual labor he was doing and miracling the presents into a neat pile in the corner while he sipped a coffee.

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything,” Adam said, feeling guilty, the pit in his gut still there despite the comforting presence of his parents. “Unless you can miracle the entire world to skip today, then I really don’t want anything special.”

“We’re not treating this birthday any different,” Dad said from the kitchen, plating a crepe. “Because it is still your _birthday_ , and that’s exciting, and, well, we’ve always celebrated.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Pop said with a dismissive shrug. His yellow eyes finally drifted over to Adam with a small smile. “One if we could skip this day, we would, trust us.” Pop took a big sip of his coffee. “And two, if we deviate from the routine now, who knows what attention we’ll draw to ourselves. From today on, we’re on high alert from up stairs and down below. Besides you asked for headphones a week ago.”

“Crowley,” Dad whispered through his teeth. “There’s no need to make him any more nervous.”

Pop looked at him carefully. “Are you nervous?”

Adam could only manage a small nod as he suddenly needed to examine the whole in his sock.

Pop walked up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine Adam, we’ve planned for this, remember?”

Adam couldn’t answer aloud, but nodded.

Dad had stopped fiddling with breakfast and walked over to the pair. “And no matter what happens, we’re here to help you deal with it.” He rested his hand on Adam’s other shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll feel better with some crepes in you.”

Adam had to giggle a little at that. “Yeah, I probably would.” The three of them slowly made their way over to the little table in the kitchen. Dad had made three plates of crepes, even though Pop was unlikely to eat. There were strawberries and peaches on the table, and even a few apples from the tree in the back yard. Adam sat down at his usual spot and poured himself orange juice.

“I really can’t believe you made Crepes, Angel, after what happened last time you wanted crepes,” Pop muttered as he picked up the newspaper from the counter and took the seat to Adam’s left.

“That was hardly my fault, my dear,” Dad said as he took his usual seat to Adam’s right. “How was I supposed to know I’d actually be captured when I was trying not to perform miracles?”

“What?” Adam asked incredulous.

“Oh have we not told you this story before?” Pop asked, amusement covering his expression, his yellow eyes twinkling. “It’s one of the best.”

Dad sighed, but said nothing, which Pop took as all the permission he needed to continue, “Well, your dad decides, in the middle of the Reign of Terror.”

“Do you know what the reign of terror is Adam?” Dad asked, interrupting.

“Sounds bad?” Adam asked as he began cutting up his crepe.

“Yeah, French Revolution. Lots of rich, noble idiots getting their heads chopped off because the people were tired of their bollocks.”

“Crowley.” Dad leveled Pop with exactly one second of warning glare for the swear.

“Sounds like something Pepper would approve of,” Adam joked.

Pop and dad both snorted at that.

“Indeed she probably would. However, It wasn’t all romantic as that,” Dad clarified. “IT was very bloody and lots of good people died too. I have some books on it for you to read if you’d like.” Pop scoffed. “It was a very long series of revolutions.”

“Like Les Miserables?”

“Yeah, ANYWAY,” Pop said trying to reclaim control of the conversation, “So like I said, lots of posh rich people being systematically killed, and just what do you think your dad was dressed like when he decided to pop across the channel on a whim because he had a craving for crepes.”

Dad was giving pop a completely unamused look.

Adam let out a hesitant answer, “Well, knowing dad, he was probably dressed really fancy, and looked a bit like the posh people being killed?”

“What a polite answer, Adam, thank you,” Dad said, his voice warm. “Glad you’ve learned some manners, unlike someone at this table.”

“The point is, Adam, the point is, is that you’re right. He’s dressed like a right, proper lord, lace, fancy shoes and all, and he gets himself captured by some of the revolutionaries.” Pop leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying this story. “And if that isn’t enough on it’s own, he’d just received,” Pop crinkled up his nose and suddenly took on snobbish high pitched voice, “a reprimand for too many _superfluous_ miracles.” Dad rolled his eyes as he returned to his normal voice. “Ridiculous.”

Adam turns his head toward Dad and quickly swallowed another mouthful of crepe. “Dad, what did you do?”

Dad smirked, he’d say devilishly but it was dad so Pop had said to call it impish lest they hurt Dad’s feelings. “Well, you see that’s when your darling Pop came to my rescue. Like a hero from a story book. It was so nice and kind.”

Pop slouched in his chair, hiding a blush behind the newspaper he was pretending to read. “I wasn’t nice. I wasn’t kind. I certainly wasn’t being heroic. It was selfish. Plain and simple.”

“You see Adam, there I was, trying to reason with my executioner-“

“And you couldn’t even speak French!”

“But who should stop time, and release me from my shackles?” He gave Pop an overly affectionate smile.

“Pop, you softie!” Adam said with a laugh.

“’M not soft,” he protested, slouching lower.

“Anyway, after rescuing me from the Bastille, we go and have some wonderful wine and crepes.” Dad sighed wistfully. “Not a terrible day in the end.”

“Flattery, Angel, Flattery.” Pop got up from the table and slipped on his sunglasses. “And I’m now due at the home of the American Ambassador whose son is who everyone else thinks is still Adam so I can play my part.” He ruffled Adams hair. “You’ve got this, kid.”

“Thanks,” Adam mumbled.

Pop leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Dad’s cheek. “Catch you later, Angel.”

“Love you too,” Dad answered.

Pop blushed and then walked toward the door. “And don’t you dare open those presents til I get back! Alright?”

“Of course!” Dad replied.

“You won’t be here to stop me!” Adam snarked.

Adam didn’t need to see his Pop’s eyes to know he had just rolled them hard. He simply turned and walked out the door.

And Adam squirmed because that meant Dad’s full attention was on him. He loved his dad, really he did, but he could be so, so, so…. _Dad_ about it.

“Adam,” Dad says in a calming voice. “Its going to be alright. Whatever happens. We have plan, after plan, after plan.”

Adam can’t look at his Dad, not right now. “I know,” Adam feels angry tears come to his eyes, and he feels like a baby which just makes the tears worse. “I can do it. I can do it, I just- what if it all goes wrong? What if I destroy the world?”

“I know, dearest, I know. It won’t come to that,” Dad said gently, laying a hand over Adam’s, he gave him a gentle squeeze. “No matter what happens, we’ll find a way.”

There’s a sudden knock at the door and Adam jumps three feet in his chair, he’s sure of it.

Brian’s voice carries through the wood of the front door, “Adam! Adam!” There’s two more sets of knocking, Pepper and Wensleydale’s, their voices joining in the shouting of Adam’s name.

Adam hesitates in his seat. Not knowing what he should do. This wasn’t one of the plans.

“Just a minute children!” Dad calls from beside him as he gets up to answer the door. Adam turned to him, his face scrunched up, confused. “I think you could use some friends right now, don’t you?”

“Did you miracle them over?”

“Please. That’s not my style, you just have good friends,” Dad scoffed. Adam felt himself smile as he let out a shy nod. And with that Dad walked to the door and gently opened it. “Hello children!”

A chorus of “Hi Mr. Fell” filled the air as the removed their shoes and walked into the home to find Adam at the table, his eyes miraculously dry. As Dad followed the Them into the kitchen. Adam gave him a wink, and Dad returned it.

“Adam! I need to tell you Happy Birthday,” Pepper said sitting at the seat across from Adam.

“I mean, don’t we all?” Brian asked, strategically sitting where Pop had left his breakfast untouched.

“Actually, I think Brian’s right,” Wensleydale answered, taking Dad’s old seat, as Dad began to clear the table. Normally that was one of Adam’s only chores but Dad was probably taking pity on him, being his birthday and all. “We all, as his best friends, need to tell him happy birthday.”

“Well,” Adam said, chewing his lip in thought. “Why don’t you all tell me happy birthday at the same time? That way no one says it first or last.”

The Them considered it before they nodded in agreement.

“On the count of three then,” Adam said with a smile. “One, two, three!”

“Happy Birthday!” The Them all shouted at the same time, pulling out homemade cards and little presents from behind their backs.

Adam couldn’t help but smile at this, despite the pit in his stomach. “Thanks guys. I- Really- Thank you.”

“Now that the official business is taken care of,” Dad said, relighting the stove. “Would any of you like Crepes? Or in Brian and Adam’s case would you like more?”

“Yes, please!” Brian said around a mouthful of crepe.

“Hmm.” Pepper hummed. “Are they…” 

“They _are_ vegetarian,” Dad answered. “I know your preferences.”

“I guess I’ll have one then. Please.”

“Wensleydale?” Dad said as he doled out more batter, which Adam was fairly certain hadn’t been there before.

“You know, I’ve actually never had a crepe before,” Wensleydale answered. “But you always have good food here, so this seems like a good time to try one.”

“Could I have another too please, Dad?”

“4 more crepes, coming up!”

After Breakfast was finished the pit in Adam’s stomach felt not quite as big as it had when he woke up, and that was good, he guessed. He was laughing and joking with his friends and it was good. Very good.

“Adam,” Wensleydale broke in, “We were thinking of going to Hogback Wood for some games, did you want to join us?”

On any other birthday, on any other day really, Adam would not have hesitated. But it was his 11th birthday, and today he was acutely aware of how he wasn’t a normal boy. “I—Dad? Could I go to the wood? I want to really, but, I understand if I can’t because we have _plans_ later.”

Dad was in the living room reading, he looked up from his book, considering the question. “I suppose, as long as you’re back by three,” Dad hummed, “I don’t see the harm. Probably good for you to get air, release some nervous energy.”

“Thank you Mr. Fell!” Brian shouted as he finished up the last of his food.

“Wait here guys,” Adam said as he got up to go change out of his pajamas. “Thanks dad!”

As he came back down, ready to go the Them followed him toward the front door.

“By three Adam,” Dad reminded him.

“Oh trust me, I won’t forget,” Adam affirmed, confident, as they ran out the door.

Aziraphale sighed deeply as Adam and the rest of his little gang rode their bikes down the street, toward Hogback Wood and the fort the children had built there. Not for the first time in the boy’s life he felt bad for him. So nervous, on his birthday, of all days. Well, Aziraphale understood why Adam was so nervous, the fate of the world rested on his shoulders for heaven’s sake.

It was too much for a little boy. So much weight on his shoulders, and young, so, _so_ young in the grand scheme. He was only _eleven._

As Crowley pointed out one evening while slightly drunk and Adam was asleep in a basket (they hadn’t been prepared to raise a child, at all), that even God’s son got to live to be three times Adam would be before he had to face his destiny.

Aziraphale also wondered, once again if he had made the wrong decision. Not his decision eleven years ago when Crowley had come to him in the middle of the night with nothing more than an “I did something extremely fucking stupid, will you help me anyway?” as a greeting. No that decision, he had long ago decided was the right one. It had brought him too much happiness in the end.

But if this was the end. Perhaps he shouldn’t have let Adam go to wood after all.

Aziraphale shook his head. Adam was a good lad, he’d be home on time.

Adam was late. He knew he was late, but it’s not entirely his fault. Damn it. If he survived this week, Pop might just kill him for not keeping track of time. I mean, it wasn’t entirely his fault he hadn’t checked his phone for the time. I mean, he didn’t like flashing it in front of his friends since they weren’t allowed to have them yet. That would just be rude, and Dad wouldn’t want him to be rude.

Adam had checked his phone and it said 2:53. “Shit,” Adam mumbled looking at the time. “Guys!”

“That’s a gendered term!”

“Sorry,” Adam corrected himself, “Everyone, I _need_ to be home by 3. You all can hopefully come by later tonight.” Adam didn’t have time to wait for a reply he turned and started walking as fast as he could home. Forget manners. IF he booked it, he’d just make it before the hound would show up. And Dad could protect him, and Adam could send it on its way, and they’d save the world from Armageddon.

“Wait, Adam!” Brian shouted after him. Adam could hear 3 sets of footsteps chasing after him. No, no, no! That definitely was not supposed to happen. He had had enough trouble initially making friends in school because he was the only one with two dads. Lord only knew what would happen to the few friends he had if they found out he was the antichrist and his dads were actually an angel and a demon. While he figured his friends would probably be okay, and maybe in Pop’s case not be shocked, he didn’t want to have _that_ conversation _today_. “Not today. Not today.” Adam started running.

“Adam!”

“Adam, wait!”

Adam turned back briefly, and really, this should not have been counted as his fault either, but. Adam’s left foot caught a raised root in the ground. He fell to the ground, hard, his ankle making a gross cracking sound.

A string of swear words streamed through his mind as he laid on the ground, words Dad would never let him think much less say.

At this point his friends had caught up to him, Adam tried to get up, but every time he tried to put weight on the sore foot, more and more pain shot through the already incredibly painful leg. Tears started to form in his eyes. He was in so much trouble.

“Adam!” Wensleydale shouted. “Are you alright?” Wensleydale could hardly look at Adam’s foot, so it must be bad. Adam spared a glance down at his ankle, his foot was at a weird angle, with an obvious bend in his leg just over the top of his boot. Adam’s stomach turned and he thought he might throw up. Shit. This was so not good. 

“His ankle’s broken! Of course he’s not Alright!” Pepper said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and really she was right. He was in no way alright.

“I-“ Adams voice cracked around a sob. He bit his lip and forced it back down. “I need to get home.”

Brian came on Adam’s left side, helping him up and slinging Adam’s left arm over his shoulders. “We’ll get you home Adam, just take it easy.” They started walking much slower than Adam wanted to, but probably as fast as he could go. “Easy does it.”

“Yeah, we’re here to help you,” Wensleydale said with a shy smile.

“Give me your phone,” Pepper demanded. “I’ll text your dad and let him know you’re hurt and running late, so you won’t get in trouble.”

Adam wasn’t sure about the not getting into trouble but he dug in his jacket pocket for his phone. “Oh damn,” Adam swore again as he felt cracks on his screen that had not been there before he fell. Pop would not be pleased. “Damn it, damn it damn it.” He pulled the phone out and yep, the screen was cracked to all hell and he couldn’t get it to turn on. “Oh no!” Adam started to cry even more now. He was so, so, so screwed. “It’s not working.”

“Let me see it,” Wensleydale offered taking a look at it. He fiddled with the buttons as they continued to walk back toward the village.

“Pepper, could you run ahead and get my dad?” Adam asked weakly. Adam tried putting weight on his foot again and let out a quick shout.

“I would, but I think Brian needs help.” Pepper positioned herself under Adam’s left arm. That did make it easier for him to hobble toward the direction of Hogback lane.

“Wensley?”

He continued to fidget with the phone, he even smacked it a few times for good measure, but dutifully took off in the direction of Adam’s house. “On it!”

Adam has lost all sense of time as they slowly made their way back. Three o’clock is getting closer and closer, he was sure of it.

Brian and Pepper had started a conversation about pets, in an attempt to distract Adam. That made Adam’s stomach take another roll. He never should have told them he secretly really did want a pet. He hadn’t been thinking and they had just been talking about what Adam really wanted for his birthday. He knew he was skirting the line when he talked about it. But he didn’t want to lie to his friends either.

“So Adam,” Pepper said, interrupting Adam’s downward spiral. “Do you think your parents will get you a dog?”

“I dunno,” he mumbled, trying not to think about dogs or hounds or really any supernatural creatures other than his Dad and Pop at the moment.

“I think you’re a dog person,” Brian chimed in. “You need a big old dog.”

“Are you insane?” Pepper asked. “His Dad would never let him have a big, old, slobbery dog. He’d have a heart attack from all the slobber and hair.”

“That’s a good point. Plus a big dog could risk messing up the seats in his Pop’s fancy car.”

“I don’t want a big dog!” Adam shouted, probably louder than he needed to. After a silent beat Adam felt guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“s’all right,” Brian said. “Given you’ve _snapped_ your leg and all.”

Adam managed a small chuckle, but Pepper glared unamused. “Anyway,” she said quickly. “You know you could always get a small dog.”

“Or a cat!” Brian offered. “Though, in my opinion cats are unpredictable, they aren’t always very playful, my sister’s mean, hates me.”

Adam knew he shouldn’t say anything, but he’d watched his dads enough over the years to know sometimes answering questions honestly drew less suspicion. “I’d like a small dog,”

“You should name it something cool,” Brian said.

“Yeah, like, Hermione, or something,” Pepper replied. They had made it back to the village. He’d make it, he’d make it home, and Dad would be there, and he’d be safe.

“No, I think I’d just like something simple, like….” Adam knew he shouldn’t have said anything, knew it was probably well after three, but he didn’t see a dog, and well maybe... Maybe…. Adam felt like something was compelling him to talk, it bubbled up from the pit of his stomach and spilled outward, “Dog.”

Adam, until this point he didn’t really feel like he had supernatural powers, at least, not like Dad and Pop. But he felt the air turn around him at that moment and he _knew_. He shut his eyes tightly as tears threatened to over flow. He’d really done it now. In front of him he heard Wensleydale and Dad come rushing toward him. Behind him he heard the yapping of a small dog, he knew would respond to “Dog” until the world ended Saturday.

And it was all his fault.

Adam started to cry in earnest now. His leg hurt, he’d let his parents down, he’d named the hell hound, and the count down to the apocalypse had begun.

It was all his fault.

His dad was suddenly there, beside him. Adam wrapped his arms around his Dad’s shoulders as Dad carried him back to their home. Adam vaguely heard his Dad tell his friends he had it from there, and they could come by later tonight for some cake and ice cream.

“I don’t want cake,” Adam mumbled between sobs. “I don’t want anything ever again.”

“What’s happened has happened,” Dad whispered in his ear. “It’ll be all right. You’ll be fine. We’ll protect you.”

Adam clung to his dad tighter, praying that was true.

Crowley had felt when Adam named the dog. He wasn’t exactly surprised that it happened, but he knew Adam would be disappointed with himself, poor kid. Crowley had tried to get this kid’s martyr complex under control, let him be a little more selfish. And he knew Aziraphale hadn’t encouraged the behavior either, but kids have a mind of their own sometimes.

Aziraphale should have never let him read Harry Potter. Really amped up Adams unending need to self-sacrifice. It’s a shame Aziraphale didn’t believe Crowley’s lie about it being Satanic (he’d started that on a Christian message board years ago for a laugh-Got a commendation for it).

Crowley turned the Bentley onto Hogback lane and toward home. The sun was low in the sky, but still hadn’t begun to set. Crowley would only admit this in the safety of their little home but he actually really took to this quiet village life with Aziraphale and Adam. Yeah, he felt bad that Adam was the antichrist and had a lot on his shoulders, but they also had good memories too. Like the time he came home to Aziraphale and a 5 year old Adam practicing the gavotte, which Crowley had waited til they finished before he turned it into a Queen dance party. Because the kid needed to have some taste for things newer than 1895.

Crowley turned into the garage as he pulled in front of their house. He liked his times with Aziraphale too, once Aziraphale had gotten over the blind panic of lying to heaven, _lying_ with a demon, and raising the antichrist. Crowley was somewhat surprised that Aziraphale not only hadn’t fallen yet, but had hidden a whole aspect of his life from the prying eyes of Heaven. Sure, Adam was partially responsible for that, his defense magicky stuff.

But Aziraphale was also such a _bad_ liar. An absolutely _terrible_ liar. Adam’s 7th Christmas had every present spoiled by December 15th and Crowley had had to run back out and buy additional presents in the height of Christmas shopping season, which he hated, and then he refused to tell Aziraphale what he had gotten for Adam, because not only would Aziraphale blab, again, he would also probably not approve of everything Crowley had purchased.

Crowley exited his car and made his way toward the house.

He noted the small dog in the garden out back. Of course Aziraphale had left it outside for now. Truth be told, he’d never suspect it was a hell hound, but he knew better. If the legions of hell ever saw what became their biggest, mightiest hell hound they’d be furious. Crowley just sort of giggled. The dog’s eyes glowed red. “You don’t scare me,” Crowley said with roll of his eyes. The Hell Hound growled. “Adorable.”

Crowley pushed open the back door into the kitchen. Normally, when he came home from attending to Hell’s business or whatever he’d obnoxiously shout “Honey, I’m home,” or something in that vein. But he knew neither Aziraphale nor Adam were probably in the mood. He glanced from the kitchen into the living room Adam was curled up on the couch, only his eyes and curls peeking out from under a blanket. The TV had Avengers on but neither of them seemed particularly interested. Aziraphale sat in his overstuffed chair, pretending to read, but watching Adam.

“Hey guys,” Crowley said weakly, removing his sunglasses and putting them in the same dish as his keys. He ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. “Angel.”

Aziraphale looked up at him over those silly little reading glasses and gave the demon a small little smile, his blue eyes shining. “I turned on his favorite movie for him, thought it might help.” Aziraphale sighed. “It’s been a rough day here,” he whispered.

“Seems like,” Crowley walked over to the couch. “Adam, you alright?”

Adam glared up at him from his blanket cocoon before covering his head completely with blanket.

“Tweens,” Crowley hissed. He ran a hand over his face. “Adam come on out, I saw the dog, it’s the best case in this scenario.” Crowley sat on the floor in front of Adam. “I wanna hear what happened.”

“He broke his ankle earlier,” Aziraphale said getting up from his chair when Adam said nothing.

Crowley’s head whipped around. “What?” He turned back to face Adam. “Are you okay?”

Adam pulled the blanket down to reveal his face. “It’s better now. Dad fixed it.”

“Figured,” Crowley said with a shrug. “But that’s still good. Right? That’s good?”

Adam’s face twitched into a threat of a smile, “Yeah, it’s good, well better now. It really hurt at the time. I couldn’t put any weight on it. The foot was facing the wrong way and everything.” 

Crowley’s mouth opened in astonishment. Sure, he’d seen broken bones before, but no one had described it to him, and it’s not like it had happened to him before. “That’s fascinating.”

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to react to your son breaking his leg,” Aziraphale snarked from the kitchen.

“Ohh look at me, Mr. I’ve-actually-read-parenting-books,” He was egging Aziraphale on unfairly, but their more playful spats usually cheered Adam up, and Aziraphale couldn’t hold that against him. Adam’s smile grew by a fraction. He’d lord that over Aziraphale if the angel decided to take real offense. “He thinks he’s _soooo_ fancy.”

Adam giggled in spite of himself. “Fancy enough to get himself discorporated in the French Revolution?”

Over Crowley’s laughter he could just hear Aziraphale moan, “You never should have told him that story.” Aziraphale walked back into the living room with a tray with two wine glasses and a cup of cocoa for Adam. “I’ll never hear the end of it now.” He placed the tray down on the coffee table next to Crowley.

Adam finally sat up and reached for the cocoa.

Crowley looked over his shoulder and caught Aziraphale’s eye. He patted the floor next to him. Aziraphale hesitated, and Crowley jerked his head, motioning to the vacant floor next to him, now. Aziraphale sighed, resigned and took a seat next to Crowley on the floor in front of Adam. Aziraphale could put aside propriety for Adam, and sometimes Crowley.

Crowley passed Aziraphale a wine glass as he took one for himself. 

Adam sipped his cocoa quieter than Crowley had ever seen the boy, who was usually a bit of a chatter box. Crowley sighed. “You know Adam, we knew this was likely. Turning away the Hound was a gamble.”

“Dad gave me this speech earlier, and it didn’t work then either,” Adam sulked over the rim of his mug.

“Yes, but Adam, dearest that doesn’t make it less true,” Aziraphale urged.

“Your dad is right,” Crowley said. “Plans four on all have you named the dog contingencies.”

“Yeah but none of the plans account for vairables like, tripping over roots or other stupid human shit,” Adam snaps back. Before either Aziraphale or he can say anything, Adam looks sheepish. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t swear, I know.” Adam sighed, adjusting the mug in his hands. “Its-It’s been a long day.”

“It’s alright, Adam,” Aziraphale said with a wave of his hand. “Everything is a little tense right now.”

“Yeah,” Crowley added, as he rests his hand over Aziraphale’s. An idea crossed his mind just then. “Would you like a sip of wine? Calm your nerves?” Crowley offered the glass to Adam.

Adam looked curious and tentatively reached a hand out, but Aziraphale interrupted, “No, No that’s not age appropriate.”

“Just a sip, angel!” Aziraphale glared. “Come _on_ , if he was Catholic he’d be getting a swallow a week, and risk viral infection.”

“No, and that’s final.”

“Temptation thwarted,” Adam mumbled laying back against the sofa.

Crowley rolled his eyes and mouthed “Later” to Adam. Adam grinned.

“I do have an idea that might be just as good,” Aziraphale offered.

“Try me,” Crowley dared Aziraphale.

“Not for you, you serpent,” Aziraphale said with no real bite to it. “For Adam.” Crowley glanced at Adam’s face, who looked just as confused. “I see a large stack of presents over there still unopened, and I know I have a cake in the dining room, if you’re feeling up to it you could invite the gang over.”

“W-Would that be alright?” Adam asked, seemingly afraid of his own shadow.

Crowley smiled. “More than.”

Adam went to grab his phone off the coffee table, and then hesitated. “Oh, umm. When I fell, it wasn’t only my ankle that broke.” Adam timidly handed Crowley a phone that looked like it had been through the war. Screen shattered, more than a little bent, and deader than a doornail.

Ordinarily, Crowley would have pointed out that Adam had only had the phone in his possession since Christmas and he needs to take better care of his things if he wants them to last for any length of time. He’d given Adam the same talking to before and he hoped to give it to him again someday. The Bentley speech he heard Adam refer to it as.

But Adam didn’t need a dressing down today. He was doing that to himself now.

“Wait, wait a damn minute here, why when Dad was fixing your leg didn’t you have him fix your bloody phone?” Crowley asked instead.

“Dad was here and, you’re better with tech,” Adam said as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged looks, trying to figure out if they should be offended or pleased.

“Please fix my phone, I can invite them all over in like two seconds, if they’re by their tablets.”

“Fine, fine, you’ve twisted my arm,” Crowley muttered under his breath.

Adam had changed into his new pajamas. The Hozier shirt Pop had gotten him and some very soft fuzzy tartan pajama bottoms from Dad. Adam was really happy with all of his gifts. And his birthday wasn’t all bad. He still had his dads who loved him. He still had his friends who didn’t know anything.

Armageddon was still coming by Saturday though.

Adam walked out of his bedroom and down the hall to where Dad and Pop kept a bedroom for themselves. Dad wasn’t one much for sleeping usually, but he’d spend the nights in there with Pop, just the same.

Dog followed him down the hall. Pop had let the dog in, saying it would cause less suspicion if they let the dog in. “And the dog could probably scratch through the door anyway, if it wanted.” Pop had stated while he filled up a second glass of wine before the party. Adam was glad, really, he was a cute dog, and didn’t seem particularly evil. No more evil than Pop anyway.

Adam knocked on the door to their room gently. He’d entered without knocking before, and to be honest he wished he hadn’t. He saw things he wished he’d never see, ever, again. And to be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure if purely human bodies could bend that way. Not that it bore thinking about.

One of them, he wasn’t sure which, miracled the door open. Pop was playing with his iPad and Dad was in cozy light khaki colored plaid pajamas and his house coat.

“Adam, what can we do for you,” Pop asked barely glancing up from whatever game he was playing.

“Yes is everything alright? Is your leg still bothering you?” Dad asked, worried, for once, the proper amount, just not about the right thing.

“Or is it perhaps, something else?” Pop Said finally sitting up more, the covers pooling over his lap, his bare chest exposed.

Adam suddenly felt very small. Like how felt the way he did when he first started primary school and the other kids started asking rude questions about him being adopted and having two dads. “Can I lay down with you guys, just for a little bit?”

Dad and Pop looked at each other briefly before scooting toward the edges of the bed to make room for him in the middle. Dog followed.

“No dogs on this bed,” Dad stated, placing the book he was reading on the side table.

“That’s fine,” Adam turned to Dog. “Dog, lay down.”

Dog obediently laid on the rug at the foot of the bed.

“Neat trick, that,” Pop observed. Adam crawled from the foot of the bed, shuffling on his knees to the gap between his parents before also sitting with his back resting on the headboard.

“I suppose it would be foolish to ask what’s bothering you,” Dad said, gently.

“Yeah, err, sorry, Dad,” Adam mumbled.

Pop suddenly handed him a glass of milk. “We get it,” Pop said dismissively. “Er well we don’t ‘get’ it exactly. Not antichrists. But- err.”

“What I think Pop is trying to say, is what we’ve always told you,” Dad’s arm wrapped around Adam’s shoulders, slightly jostling the milk as he brought it up to his mouth. “No matter what happens, we’ll be with you, and together we will do all we can to prevent whatever’s coming.”

“Yeah, we’re on our own side, the three of us,” Pop said with a firm nod.

“Our own side,” Adam repeated. He knew this was true, but he was glad to be hearing it again. He also knew that he should get up and go back to his room, but… He sipped his milk for courage. “Umm, could I, maybe sleep here? Tonight? I just-“ Adam took a deep breath, trying not to cry for the third time today. “I’d just feel better, safer, with you here.”

“Who could say no to that?” Dad said gently. As Adam finished his milk Dad miracled away the glass. “Now come on, let’s all try to get some sleep. We have a lot of work still to do, and we’ll all be in our best shape.”

“Really Angel?” Pop hissed.

“It’s fine Pop, he’s right.” Adam wriggled himself under the covers and made himself comfortable. “That’ why I wanted to be in here really, figured it was the only way I’d get any sleep.” Adam yawned. “Barely slept at all last night.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dad said also attempting to get into a sleeping position, though he wasn’t as practiced as the other two members of the family at it. “We’re getting sleep now. And that’s an order.”

“Right then, you heard the boss,” Pop said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. He more slithered his lower body under the covers and laid on his stomach. Suddenly, with a change in the air, Pop’s dark wings unfurled, covering the three of them. “Sleep for everyone.”

Some good nights were exchanged and then Adam did finally manage to drift off, feeling safe between the two creatures between heaven, hell and earth who loved him most.


	2. Here We Belong, Fighting for Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam discovers a witch, Crowley fights a tree, Aziraphale performs a one man play

Aziraphale actually managed to sleep for a bit, during early morning, the comforting blackness of Crowley’s wings probably helped. He had been content to watch Crowley and Adam sleep for a while and must have dozed off.

He woke up and looked at the clock Crowley kept on his side of the bed. It read out 4:30. Hmm. Two hours, that was a good night’s rest for him.

According to the “plans of attack” Crowley and Aziraphale had developed over the past decade (was it only a decade?). He was to report to his bookshop today, check in with his head office, keep tabs on any situations forming upstairs. He should get going soon, really, but he couldn’t force himself out of the bed just yet.

Aziraphale, sighed, time moved by so quickly when compared to 6,000 years on earth. Aziraphale watched Adam’s face as he slept. The first time he saw Adam’s face he was afraid he’d fall. And well, in a way, he had fallen. Fallen for Crowley, fallen in love with being “Dad”, and fallen for the life he’d managed to carve out in these past few years. Aziraphale loved his life, Adam, Crowley and he wanted more time. In the grand scheme this was not enough, not enough time at all. He felt everything slipping away faster and faster, like water from a fountain.

“Angel, you’re thinking too loud,” Crowley mumbled over Adam’s head. His arm had slung over Adam in the same protective matter as his wing. “Is he awake?”

Aziraphale double checked, and Adam, mercifully was still asleep. Aziraphale shook his head. “You know, if I knew nothing about him,” he said tilting his head toward Adam, “and someone told me this boy was the antichrist I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Next time he’s grounded you get to take away his Nintendo then.”

Aziraphale felt a lump form in his throat. “Yes, of course, next time,” Aziraphale said with a nod. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry, Angel, I know I shouldn’t joke, but-“ Crowley buried his face in his pillow.

“But it’s how you cope,” Aziraphale said with a small nod. “My dear, I’ve known you for six thousand years, _I know_.” Crowley’s striking yellow eyes looked up at him, his face was wracked with guilt. “I know.”

Crowley took a deep breath and gave Azraphale a weak smile. “Thanks.”

They both sat in silence for a while, listening to Adam breathe, and Dog occasionally snored.

“Is this weird? Are we weird?” Crowley asked after a while.

“Well, we’re certainly not normal parents,” Aziraphale replied.

“No. Never have been.”

“And, I think, given the, uhm, totality of the circumstances, we’re allowed some sentimentality.”

“Right. Of course.”

Silence rose in the bedroom again. Neither wanted this moment to end.

Aziraphale tore his eyes away from Adam’s face, god he looked so young in this moment, and looked at Crowley. “I know I should be going soon.”

“Probably,” Crowley agreed. “We don’t need Heaven looking for you. Certainly don’t need them finding you here.”

Aziraphale waited a moment longer, running his fingers through Adam’s curls.

Adam stirred slightly, his eyes opening a crack, “Leaving?” he mumbled half asleep

“Yes,” Aziraphale sighed, “Sadly, but I’ll be back.”

Adam nodded, already drifting back to sleep. “Love you.”

And Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile. “I love you too, my dear boy.” Aziraphale saw Adam smile faintly before falling back asleep.

After Aziraphale finally managed to push himself out of bed, get dressed and walk around to Crowley’s side of the bed. Crowley lifts his face toward Aziraphale, and they shared a brief kiss. “I love you too, you know,” Aziraphale says, fingers tracing the sharp outline of Crowley’s jaw.

“Yeah, I know,” Crowley said with a devilish grin. His face softened and not for the first time looked a little frightened. “And you know, and, and you too, obviously,” Crowley said barely above a whisper.

“I should hope.” Aziraphale strokes Crowley’s cheek once more. “Miracle me to the shop?”

“It’d be my honor.” And when Aziraphale opened his eyes he was in the little flat above the shop. Where he ‘lived’ on official heavenly records. He still loved his shop, he did, and his books, but, the apartment was not home the way Tadfield had become.

Not to say he didn’t have a few reminders here and there. A set of Adam’s favorite books in the back room, a sketch that Leonadro DaVinci had made of Crowley tucked away in the bedroom. Plausible deniability in all of it. The only thing that could possibly get him into trouble with no explanation was tucked safely away in the locked drawer of the back office’s desk. It was a photo album of Adam’s past 11 years. Aziraphale knew it was sentimental and foolish, and very dangerous. But he was old fashioned and incredibly sentimental. And he always kept the key on him, just in case.

However, while Aziraphale may not be quite as crafty as Adam and Crowley, but he had his ways. He had been doing temptations for Crowley for centuries and kept that well-hidden after all.

In Aziraphale’s mind he was in the middle of a great one man play. Aziraphale, Principality, Guardian of the Eastern Gate had largely become one character he played, while, Arthur Zachariah Fell, which is how he was listed on any human government records, such as for the shop or for Adams school, and how the people of Tadfield knew him, was a different character. And finally there was Aziraphale, Angel, Dad, when he let his guard down and felt himself. He wasn’t sure when the shift had occurred exactly in his mind. But it had most definitely occurred none-the-less.

Aziraphale began to tidy up the apartment around him. Not that it was messy, but he needed to stage it appropriately. Moving on to the book shop proper now, he makes sure it is the proper amount of messy, the proper amount tidy. He set the scene properly and once he was satisfied, the shop was “open” Aziraphale did what he usually did during the stores “hours,” pick up a book at random and decided to get lost for a while.

In fact Aziraphale didn’t look up from his book at all til he heard the bell to the shop door ring. Gabriel and Sandalphon walked into the store and Aziraphale squared his shoulders.

Show time.

Adam woke up later in the morning, small beams of light sifting through Pop’s dark feathers. Adam had, apparently taken over his Dad’s side of the bed, his limbs spread out like a starfish.

Adam shifted slightly, feeling safer and more content than he had the past few weeks.

“If you’re awake, then you can take up less space,” he heard Pop grumble into a pillow.

“Can’t,” Adam said, closing his eyes. “-‘m not awake.”

“Bollocks.” Pop pushed one of Adam’s feet toward the other with his own foot, clearing more space. “You shouldn’t even be able to take up that much space. You’re not that big. It’s literally impossible.”

Adam rolled over onto his side to face Pop. He stuck both arms in front of himself and his legs, invading the other side of the bed as much as his smaller body could. “Nope. I’m asleep and I think I’m gonna stay that way.”

“Oh, is that so?” Pop asked in that eerily calm voice.

Adam shifted one arm under his head and adjusted himself, his fingers slowly gripped the pillow tightly. “Yep.”

Pop sprung into action, he jumped onto his knees with a pillow high over his head, his wings vanishing in an instant.

At the same time Adam moved his pillow defensively, blocking the oncoming blow, grinning all the while.

“You are just like your Dad!” Pop accused trying to get around Adam’s pillow, trying and failing to hide a laugh, as Adam shifted into an attack position on his knees. “Starting shit because it makes you laugh.”

“You do it too!” Adam said through giggles and getting a good whap on Pop’s right shoulder.

“Yeah but it’s only fun for me when I do it!” Pop retaliated with a loud whack on Adam’s thigh.

Before the pillow fight could escalate. Dog began barking and jumped onto the bed, positioning himself between Adam and Pop.

Adam and Pop both stepped down from their war footing. Dog still growled at Pop.

Pop hissed back. A staring contest seemed to have started.

“Why does he hate you?” Adam asked.

“It’s a demonic turf thing,” Pop explained snarling at Dog. “He thinks he’s supposed to be the demon closest to you.”

“And he thinks you’re in the way.”

“Yep.” Pop hums for a moment. “Also doesn’t seem to like that I hit you with that pillow.”

“Umm-“ Adam said, not sure what to do. He looked between Dog and Pop. He felt a strange connection to Dog, it wasn’t his fault, just as much as his destiny wasn’t his. But Pop was one of his fathers, who he loved. 

“Try telling him to stand down.”

Adam shrugged, it was worth a shot. “Dog, it’s alright. We’re just playing.” The growling stopped. “Dog, Pop is Pop. He’s not gonna hurt me. Ever. You don’t need to protect me from him. Ever. Since he’s Pop you also have to listen to him.” Dog turned around and licked Adam’s face. Huh. “Now get down off the bed.” Dog hopped off the bed.

Both Adam and Pop were quiet for a moment. “Not sure what to make of that,” Adam said after a bit.

“You’d rather a hell hound you can control, then one you can’t,” Pop said, setting down his pillow. “Trust me.”

Before Adam could reply his stomach grumbled.

“Guess you need breakfast then.”

“Only took you 11 years to figure that out.” That got Adam a whack across the back of his head with a pillow.

Adam sat on the sofa, eating a bowl of cereal and watching TV while Pop sat next to him sipping a coffee. While he appreciated Dad’s gourmet meals, homemade or otherwise, there was something nice about vegging on the couch with Pop.

Dog sat at their feet, chewing an old, discarded ball. “You know,” Adam said, suddenly feeling brave. “I did always want a dog, just like this.”

“You never said,” Pop said quietly.

“I thought-I thought it was,” he wiggled his fingers, “Magical.”

Pop hummed. “Could be demonic, could be that you’re an 11 year human boy.” Pop shrugged. “It’s about fifty-fifty either way.”

“Oh,” Adam said, surprised. He looked at his Pop carefully. “So I can keep him?”

“I don’t think you could chase him away with rocks.” And then Pop grinned, definitely demonically, “Besides, he’s just the funniest thing I’ve seen in centuries.”

Dog shot Pop a look with glowing red eyes.

“Dog,” Adam warned.

Dog ducked his head in shame.

“This is never gonna get old,” Pop said with a laugh,

“There’s a witch that moved into Jasmine cottage,” Pepper explained.

Adam looked up, surprised. Dad and Pop obviously had discussed witches a time or two. And they both employed Witch Finder Sgt. Shadwell. One day they’d figure out the both employed the same man for the same tasks, independently of the other. But Adam found it far too funny to tell either of them the truth.

“How do you know?” Adam asked casually. “Does she have like lizard skin or weird markings on her face?” Adam winced internally. That was not subtle at all. He wasn’t sure how he could be the antichrist when he obviously would make such a terrible demon.

“No?” Pepper answered confused. “She just gets psychic magazines. Why would you ask that?”

“Oh, I dunno, seemed witchy,” Adam mumbled. The witch probably was an actual human witch then. Adam could deal with that. He tucked away the information nervously.

And after a fun conversation and some back and forth, the Them had all agreed to run home and get some things together, eat some lunch, and then meet back up to play Spanish (Or had they decided British?) Inquisition.

As Adam and Dog walked back toward home, walking carefully, he overheard a familiar voice, shouting, “You should fucking know better than to grow your roots like that! How dare you, you pathetic excuse for a tree!” Adam bit his lip to suppress a snicker. “I should chop you up for fire wood for hurting my family.” 

Honestly, in the grand scheme of Dad or Pop doing weird non-human things, seeking murderous vengeance on a tree didn’t even crack the top ten.

Adam walked a little closer and saw Pop glaring daggers at the tree. The tree of course was petrified as evidenced by the shaking Adam felt at his feet and the sudden onslaught of leaves falling from above. Pop still hadn’t noticed Adam was there though as he began to kick the offending root, his sunglasses sliding down his nose with every kick until the root snapped.

Adam cleared his throat, and Pop’s head shot up, caught. Upon seeing Adam though he relaxed. “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on people?” Pop asked trying to regain some dignity. “Thought Dad taught you better.”

“I was just walking home so I could get some lunch,” Adam replied acting perfectly innocent, batting his eye lashes dramatically for effect.

Pop rolled his eyes and slipped his shades back up. “Uh huh,” Pop said skeptically.

“What are you doing out in the wood?” Adam said, changing the subject.

“Showing the tree who’s boss,” Pop answered coolly. Pop was suddenly distracted by something at Adam’s feet. Dog had lifted his leg and was peeing on the tree.

Adam and Pop made eye contact and all was lost. They couldn’t stop laughing. Pop doubled over.

“Good Dog!” Adam heard Pop say over his laughs. Adam caught him giving Dog a scratch between the ears. Dog seemed content. At least there was that. 

Adam wasn’t expecting to find the witch while they were playing British Inquisition (with Brian playing the role of an expert Spanish Torturer). I mean, it was convenient as hell, but still highly unlikely. The witch didn’t look like a witch. But Pepper kept insisting. The witch introduced herself as Anathema Device and, if anyone cared to ask Adam, he though it sounded vaguely celestial but he wasn’t sure.

“Have you kids noticed any strange happenings?” The witch said. “Anything unusual turn up eleven years ago?”

Adam felt the pit in his gut return from yesterday. He’d nearly managed to forget its presence.

“There’s nothing strange here,” Adam said, a bit too forceful for the casual tone he was aiming for. “This is just Tadfield. Perfectly ordinary.” Alright, he was sure Dad had possessed him there because that was just a terrible, terrible lie.

The witch seemed disappointed but, sadly, not deterred. “Did any strange beasts show up lately?”

“Just Dog,” Adam replied, testing the waters. Dog barked in affirmation. “He’s a beast.”

If this young, apparently American, witch had truly been of Heaven or Hell she would have reacted, after all, Dad and Pop had had some of sort of supernatural reaction to him, even if Dad’s was minor. But the witch shook her head. “I think I’m looking for something quite a bit bigger.”

“Well, actually there’s the big black snake that wanders the woods sometimes,” Wensleydale offered as he was tortured on the torture swing. “But I think it was first spotted eight years ago.”

“Snake?” the witch questioned. She held her things more closely to her body.

“The snake isn’t real,” Brian said, giving the swing and extra forceful push. “Snakes like that don’t actually exist, and if they do, they’re not in Tadfield. They’re like in rainforests or something.”

“It does exist!” Pepper insisted. “My mum was at the town meeting where R. P. Tyler first brought it up.” Pepper stopped the swing and helped Wensley off so Brian could have a turn. “That was like I dunno, nine, nine and a half years ago.”

“It’s not real, its people seeing sticks in the dark! Or seeing much smaller snakes and exaggerating their size,” Brian insisted. Pepper gave the swing a strong push in retaliation.

“Actually, R. P. Tyler says he saw it in one of his apple trees the other day,” Wensley offered. Adam had to blink in order to hide the fact he rolled his eyes. Dad would not be amused. “He stopped by my parents the afternoon it happened.”

The swing swung closer to Adam as Brian had begun to spin. “Adam, back me up here!” Brian pleaded. “The snake is totally not a thing.”

“Some people around here have seen a big black snake in the woods. I’ve never seen it, but they say it’s huge, like seven meters long,” Adam said, mostly to the witch. “It’s just a rumor though.”

As Brian got off the swing and helped Pepper on. “Yeah, it’s a cryptid like Bigfoot and the Yeti. Fictional.”

“The snake is not a cryptid!” Pepper shouted. “R. P. Tyler has seen it, multiple times, other people have seen it. My mum has seen it. It’s real.”

“Actually, yes it does seem that it’s R. P. Tyler who’s had the most run-ins with the snake,” Wensleydale agreed. He turned to Adam. “What do you think, Adam?”

Adam shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “Uhh,” he said, stalling. “I dunno, I mean, you guys know R. P. Tyler and my dads don’t exactly get along. It’s not like he comes to us unless he’s spoiling for a fight. He might not even warn us about a dangerous snake.”

“He’s an idiot,” Pepper declared from the swing. “But I still think the snake is real.”

“Hey, Adam, wasn’t it?” the witch said walking closer to him.

Adam, who was grateful for a change of subject turned his full attention toward her. “Yes? How can I help you miss…?”

“Anathema,” she offered him her hand and Adam, having been raised by two creatures who very much understood the power of handshakes, shook her hand with a warm smile. “And thanks for the info. I’ll be on my way now. You kids are hilarious though.”

Aziraphale finished dusting the top of a shelf in the back room when the bell on the door jingled. Before he could even react he heard Crowley’s voice cry out, “Afternoon, angel.”

“Hi dad!” Adam’s voice chimed in a second later.

Azriaphale practically floated down the ladder, his heart filled with love and warmth. “Back here!” He called over his shoulder. Adam was in the back room first, he wrapped his arms around Aziriphale for a quick hug. “And how are you today my dear boy.”

“Good, met a witch,” the boy replied far too casually as he made his way to clear off a spot for himself to sit down. “We brought you some of your favorite sushi!”

Aziraphale sputtered for a moment. “A witch?!”

“You didn’t think to mention that the whole car ride down here?” Crowley hissed, handing Aziraphale a bottle of wine, with an absent minded kiss to his cheek. He plunked the sushi down on a relatively clear corner of a desk. “We were only together the whole drive down.”

Dog slowly wandered in behind them, his leash dragging across the floor. Aziraphale miracled up a small dog bed by where Adam usually sat and Dog immediately laid down in it.

“What did you talk about in the car then?” Aziraphale asked even more confused.

“Cryptids,” Adam replied as if that was an entirely suitable answer.

Aziraphale’s eyes flitted back and forth between the pair confused. “You don’t want to know,” Crowley explained confidently, setting out the food from the takeaway bag.

“In my experience, my dear, that usually means you’re afraid I’ll be angry, so you’re going to try to avoid telling me.” Azriaphale snarked as he uncorked the bottle of wine and poured two glasses.

Adam had begun laughing, which meant Aziraphale was correct.

“I,” Crowley said loudly, before any more teasing could continue, “Would like to know more about this supposed witch you met, more than any trouble I most definitely am not in.”

“Damn you,” Azriaphale muttered under his breath. Crowley was right, of course. “I won’t forget this though,” he said, looking straight at Crowley while they both took their seats.

“So about that witch,” Crowley began for Adam.

Adam hummed as he swallows a mouthful of food. “Oh, yeah, umm, her name is Anathema.”

“That’s a terrible name,” Crowley cried, leaning forward to rest his forehead in his hand. “Do her parents hate her?”

Aziriphale shushed him, even though he did agree.

“I don’t know about that. I do know she’s American, she’s youngish. Like an adult, but still young. She’s renting Jasmine cottage.” 

“Is she human?” Aziriphale asked.

“I think so, she didn’t give off any,” Adam shook his shoulders in a way he’d seen Crowley do countless times before, “vibes.”

“Vibes?” Aziraphale asked confused.

“You know, like a feeling. Like when you can sense love and Pop can sense spooky stuff.”

“Spooky stuff?” Crowley sputtered, indignant. “There is more to being a demon then just sensing spooky stuff.”

Adam, who had been exposed to Crowley’s antics for his entire life ignored the outburst. “Yeah, so, No weird vibes. She did say she was looking for something strange that had arrived in Tadfield 11 years ago and asked about any strange beasts showing up lately.” Dog’s ears perked up at Adams feet. “Which is why we were talking about cryptids.”

Crowley made several shushing noises and shot a panicked look to Aziriphale. Oh yes. Crowley had definitely done something he should not have. Aziraphale tucked the thought away for now.

“That’s all really though. She seemed nice,” Adam said as he popped another bite of sushi into his mouth. “If a bit overwhelmed.”

Crowley was frowning at Aziriphale and Aziraphale was frowning back at him.

“I don’t like it,” Crowley put words into what they were both thinking.

“The timing, and the questions seem....” Azriaphale struggled to find the word.

“Occult?”

“Or otherwise,” Azriaphale corrected, shooting a pointed glare at Crowley.

“Yeah, I know,” Adam said with a sigh. “But she really does seem human and I can keep an eye on her myself,” he offered, his voice hopeful.

“No,” both Crowley and Azriaphale said in perfect unison. This they had agreed upon long ago, they wouldn’t hide the truth from Adam, but they would not burden him any more than he already was by the ineffable.

“Oh come on, you guys are both too busy with your end of the world prepping, I can talk to a witch,” Adam said confidently, in the way only a child can be. “I already have.”

“Your only job from here on out is to live a normal life,” Crowley insisted, as he always had. Crowley’s tone brooked no argument.

“Because I’m _so_ normal.” Adam rolled his eyes. “What happens if I run into her again?”

“You say nothing and move along.” 

“Right, because that won’t be suspicious, _at all_.” Oh dear, Adam and Crowley had had many verbal spats over the years. They loved each other, very much, there was no denying that, but sometimes they were far too similar. Crowley looked ready to snark back at a moment’s notice and then a real row would start, and well, they didn’t have time for that.

“What’s a cryptid?” Aziraphale asked, changing the subject.

“So wait, Gabriel, _Gabriel_ , self-righteous, sanctimonious fucker _Gabrie_ l, came to the shop?” Crowley asked, searching for clarification from his angel. Because if what his Angel was saying was true, then… Then all is truly lost because this had to be a _sign_. “And bought porn?”

“Language, please,” Aziraphale’s head gestured to the back seat.

Adam’s face was buried in his phone, his fingers moving across the screen. “Don’t worry, I’m not paying attention.” Adam let out a small snicker, “And I don’t want to think about porn and anything to do with either of you.”

Crowley let out a small chuckle while Aziraphale tried desperately to hide his own grin.

“So, anyway, Gabriel, porn,” Crowley said, turning his attention back toward the road, His left hand reached out and squeezed Aziraphale’s knee. A shameless temptation to be sure, but judging from the small, fond smile Aziraphale was giving him, an effective one. “Go.”

Aziraphale sighed. “He didn’t buy pornography,” he clarified. “I don’t carry the stuff.”

“No, but I’m quite certain you have a fine selection of classical erotica,” Crowley mumbled with a knowing, flirtatious smile. “Mr. I- _earned_ -my-Wilde-first-editions.”

Crowley didn’t need to glance at Aziraphale’s face to know he was now doing the thing where he was blushing and glaring at the same time, but he did glance anyway. What was the point of being a demon if he didn’t indulge?

“You’ve certainly never complained about things that I learned during the century you slept through. In fact I’m fairly certain you rather enjoy aspects of it.” Aziraphale said primly, which to be honest Crowley wasn’t sure how an Angel could be prim when talking about all things carnal, but that was his angel.

Adam coughed in the back seat, seemingly trying to remain unaware of the conversation happening in the front.

Aziraphale adjusted in his seat, sitting straighter none the less. “As I was saying, Gabriel and Sandalphon came to the shop, as we expected.” Azriaphale fidgeted in his seat, resting his hand over Crowley’s. Azirphale felt uncomfortable around the archangels. Crowley hated them, loudly and openly. Aziraphale _tolerated_ that. “However, because they are not as experienced with how humanity works-”

“Because they’ve got giant sticks up their arses and are know it all’s.”

“They felt they needed to be overly clear on their desire to chat privately in the back room and so in order to obtain privacy they started talking about purchasing-“

There’s a loud bang and a sudden impact on the side of Bentley. Crowley, perhaps miraculously, stopped the car immediately.

“You hit something,” Adam noted.

Aziraphale was going to forcibly discorporate Crowley for not only crashing, but crashing with Adam in the car.

“No, something hit us,” Crowley replied defensively, as Aziraphale got out of the car. Crowley, Adam and Dog followed suit.

There was a human woman, and a frankly ancient bicycle, on the ground. Oh he was so fucked, even if it wasn’t his fault. And to be perfectly clear it wasn’t his fault. The Bentley was also fucked, but that was much more easily fixed than Aziraphale’s mood when he had righteous fury.

Aziraphale had made it light, which was the first indication that the woman was conscious when she dizzily asked, “How did you do that?”

Crowley froze in panic as Aziraphale, seemingly not caring about any need for secrecy, during one of the most dangerous weeks of their entire existence, crouched down and began healing the poor woman. Crowley made it darker as soon as the trickiness of healing was done. The poor woman seemed more and more confused and scared by the second (he can feel others fright, he’s supposed to like it) and Crowley knew this was gonna be all his fault and-

“Anathema?” Adam’s voice ripped through Crowley’s panic spiral like a knife. Crowley rocked forward onto the balls of his feet, subtly trying to gauge the situation.

The woman looked up and looked even more confused. “Adam?”

“Are you alright?” Adam took another step forward. Crowley’s demonic flight or fight response hadn’t settled down yet, watching this carefully, ready to intervene. Crowley glanced over at Aziraphale, whose body had also tensed, slightly.

Anathema, he still hated the name, smiled. “Well, I’ve been better, but it’s not terrible.” Her eyes flitted between Crowley and Aziraphale questioningly.

“Oh!” Adam said with a small, yet proud smile. “These are my dads, Arthur Fell and Anthony Crowley.” Crowley gave a small, tight, incredibly forced smile when his name was mentioned.

“Oh.” Anathema visibly relaxed and Crowley felt a fair amount of her fear vanish. “You did mention that,” Anathema said with a small nod. She turned her face to Aziraphale, “Hi I’m Anathema. Anathema Device.” Crowley was grateful for his sunglasses because her terrible name was somehow even worse and he could not contain his eye roll. This poor, poor girl. 

“Arthur,” Aziraphale said with that charming smile that never failed to bring a smile to Crowley’s face too, perfect little bastard that he was.

And that smile is exactly why they had ended up giving the witch, they weren’t supposed to talk to, a ride home, fixing her arm and bicycle (carried awayness aside).

After Anathema was safely inside her rented college Crowley turned to face Aziraphale. “Human?”

Aziraphale gave a curt nod. “Human.”

“Told you,” Adam chirped from the back seat.

“Adam forgot a book back here,” Aziraphale told Crowley after they arrived home. Adam had run inside right away. Shouting something about his minecraft village and Wensleydale. 

Crowley frowned, turning back toward his angel. It wasn’t like Adam to forget a book, too much like his Dad that way. “He didn’t bring a book down to London with him,” Crowley mumbled. “Did he borrow one from the shop?”

Crowley watched as Aziraphale straightened up, looking at the book carefully. The angel froze once he flipped over the book.

“Angel, everything alright?” Crowley asked after Aziraphale didn’t move for a prolonged period of time.

Aziraphale hadn’t quite snapped out of whatever trance he was in, when he looked up at Crowley, his eyes wide. “This-This must be that woman’s book,” Aziraphale said, sounding dazed. His eyes glanced back down at it and then hopelessly up at Crowley. “I- I really should-Really really should return it.” Aziraphale was nervous, on edge in a way Crowley had not seen in some time.

“Right, okay,” Crowley said with a nod. There was more to it. Had to be. Aziraphale wouldn’t get this anxious over not returning a book. Even if he wanted it for his collection he’d usually take it back and then offer an exorbitant amount of money to whoever had owned it. However, the angel very obviously for whatever reason did not want to return this book.

Crowley knew that, Aziraphale- being his Angel- sometimes needed permission to do the “wrong thing.” Aziraphale could contort good and evil, right and wrong fairly well enough on his own, but sometimes. Sometimes he needed the extra confirmation that what he was doing was right. Needed to be convinced it’s not all that bad. Some Persuasion. A soothing of conscious. _Temptation_. And that’s where Crowley stepped in since time began.

Some other demons treat temptations like a fight, hit the subject over the head with an idea and watch it go. Crowley found it much more like pushing a child on a swing set. A gentle push forward, a slowing them down when they come back, and another push forward til they decide to jump off the swing and fly, all by themselves. “You could always return it to her tomorrow,” Crowley said in a very even tone. “She’s had a long day and probably is already in bed. Humans and shock, you know? You wouldn’t want to wake her, just to return a book, would you?”

Aziraphale shook his head slightly but made no definitive move one way or the other. “But this book, she’d have to miss it.”

“Maybe, maybe.” Crowley nodded with slow gentle acceptance. He still hadn’t seen the book but at this point he knew he would. “But one night angel, one night for something that seems so important to you.” And the push forward.

“Important to us.” Aziraphale clarified. Crowley took half a step back. “It’s a prophecy book.”

“Prophecy?” Crowley frowned and removed his sunglasses. Aziraphale, for his part in preparation had put his ample prophecy collection to use, trying to find a way to save the world, save their family. “That seems rather important, worth at least a look over, don’t you think?” 

Aziraphale’s shoulders straightened, and he looked far more determined. “We need to get inside. Now.”

Crowley followed the Angel inside. Whatever was happening, Aziraphale was now determined, and perhaps a little scared. Crowley kept close to him, just in case. Crowley was only slightly shocked when Aziraphale lead them into his study. IT was where they often discussed plans for the end of the world. It was on the ground floor, as far from Adam’s room as possible.

Aziraphale gently placed the book on the desk and sat down, almost reverently in front of him. Crowley shut the door firmly behind him, locking it and making sure no sound escaped the room. Aziraphale had frozen again, staring at the tome in front of him. Crowley came up behind him, resting his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. Crowley forced himself to look down at the book.

“The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter,” Aziraphale whispered reverently. Crowley, after centuries of knowing Aziraphale knew how long he had looked for this particular book. And to have it now, even Crowley was holding his breath as Aziraphale went to work, slipping on his gloves.

Aziraphale opened to a random page within the book. “This is real?” Crowley found himself asking. His hands had gripped Aziraphale’s shoulders tighter involuntarily and he forced himself to relax, smoothing the fabric he had bunched.

“It better be, it has to be,” Aziraphale replied, sliding those silly little reading glasses on his face. A gloved hand caressed the page as he found the beginning of a random prophecy.

“When the adversary returneth to mark the end of day, while he crafteth mine, the one of heaven and the one of below shall not have an evenings rest,” Aziraphale read aloud.

There was suddenly a soft knock on the study door. Angel and Demon turned slowly. “Dad? Pop?” Adam called from the other side. Crowley took the sound blocking miracle down without thinking.

“Everything alright?” Azirphale asked, slight tremble in his voice. Crowley didn’t dare break the silence himself.

“Fine!” Adam shouted back. “Just had forgotten to say good night. Love you both.”

“Y-You too, my dear,” Aziraphale managed to choke out. 

Aziraphale and Crowley stood in silence, unmoving, until Adam had gone back up to bed and shut the door.

“I need a cocoa,” Aziraphale said quietly.

“I need something a bit stronger than that,” Crowley mumbled, dutifully heading toward the kitchen none the less.

Hours dragged on as Aziraphale poured over the book. Crowley draped himself over the small sofa Aziraphale kept in the office for that purpose. He stayed awake, though watching carefully, his body on high alert. Aziraphale was fully in his element, face buried in the book oblivious to the outside world.

Crowley wasn’t sure what time it was when Aziraphale shut the book and swiveled in his chair toward Crowley.

“I-“ Aziraphale started nervously. Crowley sat up straighter, both feet on the floor at least. “It won’t be easy.” Crowley nodded, he knew this would be, from the very beginning. “But I think, I believe, we just might be able to pull this off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going on vacation today (I planned it before I realized how obsessed with Good Omens I would become, rude I know) and I won't be able to post more until I get back, but do not worry, I have a lot of chapter 3 written and honestly Chapter 3 has gotten even more out of hand than this fic in general so chapter 3 may become Chapters 3 and 4. 
> 
> As always love your feedback and support. Feel free to message me on tumblr or twitter @Yarsian


	3. People Talk About Me, I Hear it Everyday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Adam come into Crowley and Aziraphale's care? And what was it like to grow up as their son?

Chapter 3- People talk about me, I hear it every Day

11 years ago

Aziraphale was shocked at the insistent knocking at the door. He had a rough idea who it was, as no one would visit _him_ because of a ‘book emergency’ especially at this hour. Aziraphale opened the door to his book shop with a less than polite yank.

“Speak of the devil,” Aziraphale said unamused.

Crowley rolled his eyes and barged his way into the bookshop none-the-less. Aziraphale had no true objection, but it was the principle of the thing really.

“Angel,” Crowley said as he strode confidently into the back room, plunking a wicker basket down on the couch. “I need your help.”

Aziraphale frowned, Crowley was usually never so forward if there was a part of their arrangement he needed Aziraphale to see too. There was a certain dance, a pattern, he had grown used to.

“Whatever do you mean?” Aziraphale said, a slight whine in his voice. Crowley didn’t listen as he headed straight for Aziraphale’s wine collection. “What’s wrong, Crowley?”

“I did something incredibly fucking stupid,” Crowley explained as he pulled out a wine bottle. Instead of pulling out glasses, Crowley miracled away the cork and began drinking straight from the bottle. After an exceedingly long drink the demon turned around, and there was an unmistakable urgency around him. “Will you help me anyway?”

Aziraphale felt his soul yearn for Crowley, where his human heart lay surged forward in his chest. “What do you need?”

At that moment, the basket, left forgotten on the sofa let out a small cry. A human cry. A human baby cry. The ominous conversation with Gabriel came flooding back to Aziraphale’s mind. His head whipped back and forth between the basket and Crowley.

“Crowley, don’t tell me you- You couldn’t-“ Aziraphale was begging now. Crowley was reckless, as a rule, but surely not _that_ incredibly reckless. “Surely not.”

Crowley took another long pull from the bottle of wine. “I did.”

Aziraphale walked over to the basket, gently with one finger he flipped open the end the cry was coming from. Inside looked a very normal human infant, wrapped in a red blanket. “You’re sure?” Aziraphale looked back at Crowley, who was doing a very good job of finishing the bottle all by himself. “He looks like-“

“A normal human boy?” Crowley asked as he pulled out a second wine bottle, and, finally, some glasses. “That’s the problem.” Crowley’s head shook as he poured out two, exceedingly full glasses of wine. “Not a problem exactly. Well. My problem.” He turned around and offered a glass to Aziraphale.

“Your problem?” Aziraphale asked confused as Crowley strode confidently back over to the sofa, picking the young antichrist out of the basket. “Crowley, I need you to start making sense, _now_.”

Crowley cradled the babe gently and bounced the young child and comforting him with shushing noises. It made Aziraphale’s heart ache to see the demon so tender with anyone. As the child finally quieted down Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, desperate. His free hand slipped off his sunglasses. “Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered, dare he say, almost prayer like. “I know you’re gonna object. And I know you’re not gonna like this, but please- Please, just hear me out.”

Crowley was right. Aziraphale had a feeling where he knew what Crowley was going to ask. “I should ask you to leave.”

“Yeah, yeah, you probably should.” Crowley admitted with a shrug. “But I’m asking you, as the creature I am closest to, in all of existence, to hear me out anyway. Please.”

Aziraphale looked away, focusing on a bookshelf that was only up by a small miracle. Why. Why was Crowley being so forward? So fast? He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t listen. He knew Crowley would only cause trouble. But- But it was Crowley.

Aziraphale turned back toward Crowley, thinking of all the times the Demon, who had no right to be honest with him, had no reason, at all, to save him, but did just those things. Why? He was sure Crowley couldn’t say, and Aziraphale had rather complicated feelings on the issue as well. Aziraphale may fall because of this but- but he had heard the demon out before, and it had worked out for both of them, and he hadn’t fallen yet.

With a resigned sigh, Aziraphale took his usual seat in his wing back chair, leveling Crowley with a flat look. “Alright. I’ll ‘hear you out’ but if I decide to throw you out-“

“Then I’ll take Adam and we’ll leave. You’ll never hear from us again.”

Aziraphale paused, wine glass halfway to his mouth, feeling struck by lightning. “Adam?” he asked quite skeptically, focusing on the part he could handle.

“It’s what he had been named, before I took him back.” Crowley shrugged. “Seemed fitting no matter what side you’re playing on.”

Aziraphale took a long drink of his wine. “Best tell me everything then.”

“Look, I was just reporting in to the head office, like you do. And then all of a sudden Hastur and Ligur are like, ‘Congrats’ and I’m confused. Why are they congratulating me, of all demons? I mean, Angel, I don’t know if you know this, but they hate me. They don’t get me downstairs. I mean, I get awards and stuff, but personally, they despise me. Which, whatever, I don’t care for them either. Hastur smells.”

Aziraphale hummed in commiseration. It’s not like he got along with his head office either exactly.

“So anyway, Hastur gives me this basket.” Crowley jerks his head to the side, motioning to the basket in question. “And I’m like, ‘what in heaven,’ no offense, ‘are you giving me?’ And of course they’re like ‘our lord and master’s son.’” Crowley shakes his head and takes another gulp of his wine. “And I don’t want the world to end. At all.” Crowley shakes his head. “I like it here. I like wine. I like my car. I like lots of earthly things. I like both of us existing. I like your company.”

Aziraphale prayed it was the wine that made his cheeks flush at the comment. Not-not the last thing. No, not at all.

“Anyway, I have my orders and I hand the antichrist off, like I’m supposed to.” Crowley looks down at the baby in his arms. “But-But I dunno Angel, you know I don’t like kids being put in the middle of things.”

Aziraphale’s mind flashed back to the arc and the children in the vicinity. And to Moses and the children of Egypt. And to Soddom and Gamorah. And to Job’s children. And-

“I recall.” Aziraphale replied, trying to retain neutrality and failing miserably. It truly seemed an impossible task. He wasn’t, technically speaking, allowed to agree with Crowley. Not officially. Not verbally. But thus far other Angels couldn’t read his mind, and he still hadn’t fallen. And that _had_ to be enough for Aziraphale.

Crowley, thankfully, after six thousand years knew well Aziraphale’s predicament. “Right? So-“ Crowley continued, mercifully, without prompting. “So after I drop the kid off, I just get a bad feeling. I dunno, just like.” Crowley wiggled in a manner of his snake like nature. “A premonition or something. Like something was going terribly wrong.”

“That’s Armageddon for you.”

“Point taken.” Crowley replied, taking another sip of wine while bouncing the baby gently. Aziraphale suppressed a sigh. If Crowley weren’t a demon he’d think it sweet. And well…. It’s not like Crowley was your average demon. “So, after everyone in the hospital seems to have quieted down I-I stop time and switch all the babies back where they’re supposed to be.”

“All the babies?” Aziraphale asked, even more confused than when Crowley had begun his story. “I thought there were only supposed to be two. Him,” Aziraphale said gesturing to the baby in Crowley’s arms. “And whoever he would be swapped for.”

“That-That was exactly part of the problem.” Crowley pointed a finger emphatically. “There was a second family there. A normal family, not just the ambassador’s wife. And they had ended up with the Antichrist somehow. Named him Adam.”

“And you just stole their baby?” Aziraphale shrieked indignant.

“No!” Crowley said with an emphatic shake of his head. “I put all babies back exactly where they belonged and took this one, Adam, the antichrist, with me.”

“And you’re sure he’s the antichrist?” Aziraphale asked skeptically.

“He was the only one in a red blanket.” Crowley replied like the answer was obvious.

Aziraphale frowned at Crowley’s explanation. But on the other hand… “That does seem thematically appropriate.”

“Exactly!” Crowley said, a bit too loudly causing the babe-Adam to stir. Crowley shushed him again, sweetly, bouncing him gently. “Exactly. So, I take Adam back.”

“Wait a moment, who named him Adam?”

“The human family he had for a moment. Keep up. I gave them back their right baby and I dunno, seems still good for this baby too.”

Aziraphale’s head was beginning to ache. He wasn’t sure that was possible, but it was none the less. “Right. So let me get this straight. You dropped the antichrist off, you had a bad feeling about it, you went back in and switched the baby back and then you brought the antichrist here?”

“Yep.”

“So why involve me in any of it?”

Crowley slumped forward, his whole body rocking the babe gently. “Because I have an idea.”

“Do I need to drink more to hear this idea?” Aziraphale asked, suddenly nervous. In fact the only time he became more nervous was whenever Gabriel dropped in unannounced. 

“Probably not a bad idea.”

After Aziraphale had refilled both his and Crowley’s glasses, the demon continued. “So, anyway. I’ve now kidnapped the antichrist, I’m figuring ‘what do I do?’ If I get caught I’m beyond fucked.”

“SO you drag me into it?”

“Yes.” Crowley’s face crumples slightly. “Well- Not exactly. Just-Just listen, a little bit more.”

Aziraphale sighed. He heard Crowley through ridiculous plan, after plan, after plan. He could do it at least one more time. “Go on.”

“Look, you don’t Armageddon to happen. I don’t want Armageddon to happen.” Aziraphale nodded, despite himself. “So what if-what if you and I raise Adam together? Balance out the good and the evil?”

“And what? Have him turn out like every other human on the planet?”

“Yep,” Crowley popped the p irreverently. “Exactly.” Crowley shrugged. “Can’t have him be evil incarnate if he’s just your average Joe. Or Average Adam, as the case may be. And we’ll be better parents than the ambassador who didn’t even show up, and more prepared to deal with any fall out than an innocent normal family.” Crowley sighed. “And look, if you think about it, it’s not fair, Her son got to live to be thirty-three before, you know. Adam here, he’s only gonna be eleven. That’s still a kid. Very much still a kid. I just. I just don’t like it.”

Aziraphale should object. Aziraphale wants to voice every heavenly order at Crowley. Knows he should shout at Crowley and kick him out of his acquaintance and out of the book shop. He’d be just as ruined if he was found out. It’s what he _should_ do. It’s what a _good_ angel would do.

The anti—Adam had begun to cry in earnest now. Aziraphale was granted a brief reprieve from making a decision.

Crowley set down his wine glass and focused his attention on the fussy baby. And honestly, seeing Crowley struggle with the baby on his own was the final nail in the coffin.

Aziraphale set down his glass and stood up. He walked over to Crowley confidently, decision made. “He’s hungry.” Aziraphale miracle a bottle of formula into his right hand. “Give him to me.”

“Y-you’re sure?”

“Absolutely. Can’t let him starve to death, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, scooping up the baby into his left arm. “You’ll never remember to feed him.” Adam took the bottle easily and began drinking heavily. “And besides, you can change the nappy later.”

Crowley leveled Aziraphale with an unamused look.

In the morning Aziraphale and Crowley, and Adam made their way to the shops early. Crowley had miracled up a pram at around three in the morning when Aziraphale objected to leaving him in the basket on the floor when he finally settled down for sleep.

“I don’t see why have to go to the shops,” Crowley whined, as he pushed the pram forward. “We can just make things.” Aziraphale was trying to figure out how Crowley could swagger and push a pram simultaneously, but Aziraphale knew to never underestimate him.

“There are a multitude of reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for starters, we will both raise suspicion if we suddenly start miracle-ing up everything a baby needs.” Aziraphale peered into the pram as Adam began to stir slightly. He smiled at the baby and ran a finger down his cheek. Adam stilled. “My office won’t object to the occasional bottle here or there, but suddenly an entire kit of baby supplies? Gabriel would be down here in a minute.”

Crowley let out a low hiss. “Prick.”

“Language in front of the baby, my dear.” Aziraphale shot Crowley a halfhearted glare. Crowley curled his lip and rolled his eyes, but said nothing. 

“And secondly, well, do you know what a baby needs? Because I sure as hell don’t know everything.”

“Nappies,” Crowley said confidently. “And bottles. Come on, they’re simple at this age, angel.”

“And formula to put in those bottles, and clothes, and things to cut teeth on, and-“

“And how _exactly_ do you know so much about babies?” Crowley said, his eyebrow raising over the rim of his glasses.

“I’ve done a lot of hospital work,” Aziraphale answered confidently.

Crowley made a few abortive noises before finally muttering, “Yeah, I got nothing, that actually makes sense.”

Aziraphale grinned in triumph. “Now I must admit, in the interest of fairness, those were only temporary stays with children. I imagine keeping one full time will require a lot more. And I’m angel enough to admit that I don’t know everything.”

“Humility.” Crowley huffed. “That’s really not angel like behavior, at all, in my experience.” Aziraphale ignored that remark. The trio rounded the corner to where they had found a suitable shop filled with baby supplies. Crowley let out a defeated sigh. “Right, and on top of that, we’re not human. You don’t sleep and I don’t eat. And as we learned last night he needs to do both.” Crowley’s whole body shivered. “And more. Holy shit is there more.”

Aziraphale paused outside the shop, opening the door to let Crowley push the pram inside and then followed them in.

Crowley and Aziraphale came to a stop just inside the entrance, eyes growing wider by the second. The store was jam packed with everything a child could ever need, want and every business said you needed too. And that was just what they could see. 

“I-uh- wow okay. That’s a lot,” Crowley whispered to Aziraphale. “You were right, I was wrong. I- I’m sorr-.”

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale replied with a wave of his hand. “This is… overwhelming, to say the least”

“So, where do we start?”

“Nappies and bottles?” Aziraphale suggested, his voice cracking slightly.

Crowley hissed but began pushing the pram further into the shop, demonically determined.

Crowley collapsed onto his sofa feeling an odd mixture of triumphant and completely exhausted. Aziraphale followed him closely with a frown. “I’m not sitting in that throne, make some room,” the angel ordered.

Crowley attempted to glare up at him from where his face was buried in the sofa cushion. “You make some room.” 

Crowley found him upper half lifted up by his shirt collar and then after some shuffling found his head dropped unceremoniously into Aziraphale’s lap. Crowley hissed.

“You walked right into that one, dear,” was Aziraphale’s only reply.

Crowley flipped himself over and looked up at Aziraphle, stubbornly keeping his head in the angel’s lap. They sat in silence for a few minutes, it had been a long day, Crowley and Aziraphale had spent far too long, and far too much money at the baby store. Between the two of them they had ended at least one of everything sometimes two in wildly different styles. Because I mean, look at them. And Aziraphale had personally cleaned out the shop of all parenting books. And then it all had to come together, while Adam still needed things like food, changing, naps, and attention. No wonder humans preferred to prepare the nursery and then have the baby. It was….A. Lot.

“He’s asleep?” Crowley asked feeling his own eyes shut in the peace and quiet.

Aziraphale hummed, his fingers idly drummed near Crowley’s longer locks, which hand fanned out all over the angel’s lap. “For now.”

Crowley groaned and opened his eyes. “I need a drink,” he finally said with a sigh.

“I saw some nice wine in your kitchen,” Azirphale mumbled, Crowley could feel his fingers drifting dangerously closer to his hair. Suddenly Crowley was not nearly as tired as he had been. “Surprised you have a kitchen.”

“Looks cool and came with the flat,” Crowley replied, trying to keep casual. He wished he had his sunglasses right now, he had removed them trying to figure out how to assemble Adam’s new crib. They offered protection. “Place to keep my alcohol and my coffee maker. And now I have a feeling it’s going to get even more use.” Crowley tried to hide a sigh. It felt good, them just sitting like this. “I suppose you’ll be wanting some of that wine?”

“In a minute, possibly, if it’s not too much trouble,” Aziraphale replied. He smiled down at Crowley. Crowley felt his heart threatening to fly out of his chest like… Like a bat out of hell. “You look comfortable.”

“Still could go for the wine myself,” Crowley replied, Aziraphale’s fingers had found his hair now, just the ends, but he could feel the angel playing with them from the movement at his roots. “E-Eventually.”

“No rush,” Aziraphale agreed. Crowley watched as his eyes drifted shut. Crowley was grateful he didn’t need to breathe, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to at the moment. Aziraphale was still petting his hair.

This wasn’t the first time the pair had found themselves in…less than innocent positions. They’d known each other for six thousand years at this point. From the start of the world they’d done each other small favors, from small friendly conversation through meals and keeping each other company. They’d developed their formal Arrangement centuries ago. The other, less defined aspect, well… Lets just say this isn’t the first time they’ve spent perhaps too much time together in what could be considered an intimate fashion.

Aziraphale was still there. And Aziraphale was still petting his hair.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale began gently.

Crowley felt all sound catch at the top of his throat, only managing a cracked hum of acknowledgement.

“This is going to become all the more frequent, isn’t it?” Aziraphale’s hand had decidedly moved to deliberately playing with the roots of his chin length hair. The Angel’s other hand had come to rest on Crowley’s chest.

“Ngk,” Crowley choked out. He coughed forcefully a few times, forcing himself to get it together, bless it. “Hm. I mean, if you really do plan on helping raise Adam, then,” Aziraphale had curled a strand around his finger and Crowley’s eyes fluttered shut. “Then, Yeah, I’d expect we’d spend even more time together.”

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Aziraphale said decisively. In a flash Crowley found Aziraphale’s lips pressed against his. Their lips moved gently against, each other’s, chastely at first and then less so as Crowley gasped into the kiss.

They never got around to sharing wine that night.

Ten Years three months ago

Crowley woke up to the shrieky- fussy babbling of a nine month old Adam.

“My dear,” he heard Aziraphale begin. “I know this must be quite painful for you.”

Adam’s voice let out a small shriek, seemingly indignant. Crowley rolled slightly, peaking at the scene before him. Aziraphale sat on his side of the bed ( _his_ side, the thought still made Crowley feel a little dizzy, but he’d never admit to that). Adam sat in his lap facing the angel and it looked as if the two were in the middle of a very serious discussion.

Aziraphale placed a finger over his own mouth. “Adam, dearest, there’s no need to shout. I’m right here.”

Adam stuffed a soft toy, shaped like a snake into his mouth with a frown. Clearly frustrated with whatever this conversation was about. “Baba,” he mumbled around the toy.

Crowley closed his eyes and took a very measured breath, his heart feeling very undemonically warm. That had been a recent development of Adam’s, words. Well, sort of words. As far as they had figured out whenever Adam wanted Aziraphale he’d make a very deliberate “Da” sound.

“Papa,” Aziraphale replied, emphasizing the “P” sound. “Is still sleeping.” Crowley took another measured breath. Aziraphale wasn’t the only thing that made him dizzy.

The Antichrist let out an unholy string of syllables that indicated to all around he was not satisfied with that answer.

“Ish,” Crowley mumbled, forcing his eyes open again, trying to play cool. Aziraphale’s head whipped around and looked down at him. “Morning Angel,” Crowley said with a small smile. “Adam.”

“Baba!” Adam crowed in triumph he maneuvered himself into a crawling position and began the trek over Aziraphale’s leg toward Crowley.

Crowley slithered his way up into a seated position as well, his back resting against the headboard.

“Sleep well?” Aziraphale asked, planting a shy kiss on Crowley’s cheek.

Adam had made his way onto Crowley’s lap, resting his back against Crowley’s chest. “Like an angel,” he purred in Azirphale’s ear. Crowley glanced at the clock. 6:30am the little red numbers read out. “I’m assuming the little adversary hardly slept at all.” Crowley found one of Adam’s ticklish spots on his side, causing the boy to giggle. 

“Better than the night before,” Aziraphale said with a small shrug. Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley had personal experience with growing teeth, but they were well accustomed to how terrible one child found it. And Adam was not shy in voicing his displeasure. “Only woke up about half an hour ago.”

Crowley was allowing Adam to idly play with his hands when Adam found it wise to replace his toy snake with one of Crowley’s fingers, and bit down. Hard.

Crowley let out a hiss and as calmly as he could, removed his finger from Adam’s mouth. “And to think, those are normal human baby teeth,” Crowley said shaking his finger delicately. 

“At least we’re not breast feeding,” Aziraphale quipped.

When Crowley stopped laughing he found his head resting on Azirphale’s shoulder. Crowley, nuzzled in closer to Aziraphale, inhaling the scent of his pajamas, still reveling in the feeling of “Pinch me I’m dreaming” (a phrase Aziraphale still didn’t fully understand but assured Crowley he understood the metaphor).

Aziraphale planted another hesitant kiss to Crowley’s hairline, and Crowley selfishly reveled in the feeling. “Crowley,” the angel began, gently.

“Yes, Angel?” Crowley playfully nipped at Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“I-“ Azirphale whispers into Crowley’s hair line.

“Dada!” Adam shouted, pointing at Azirphale, breaking the tension.

“Yes, that’s right!” Crowley said, his chest still incredibly full of far too many emotions. “That’s Dada!” Crowley lifted the nine month old up, causing another happy shriek from him. Blowing a raspberry against Adam’s chubby cheek.

Aziraphale was blushing when Adam turned and extended his arms to Azirphale. “Dada,” he insisted again.

“He only wants whoever he’s not with,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. Aziraphale took Adam back into his arms.

“The joys of children.” Crowley mumbled. “Breakfast?”

“Sounds heavenly.”

9 years, six months ago

Aziraphale lunged toward the phone as soon as the archangels had left the shop. He punched in Crowley’s flat’s number from memory.

Voicemail. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and pressed down on the receiver.

Aziraphale then dialed Crowley’s mobile. “Angel,” Crowley answered far more calmly than Aziraphale felt the situation called for.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale felt himself relax slightly at the sound of Crowley’s voice.

“Situation clear now?” Crowley asked, his voice tight.

“Yes. I- Adam- Gabriel!” Aziraphale tried to explain.

“Adam and I are in the car, now, Angel,” Crowley replied. “Headed toward the Apple Store.”

“Hi Daddy!” he heard Adam’s voice call out in the background.

Azirphale frowned. “IS that a joke? I don’t really think this really the time to relive old triumphs.”

“Nope!” The P popped. “This is the perfect time,” Crowley answered. “You’re entering the twenty-first century, Angel, whether you like it or not.”

Aziraphale’s frown only deepened. “I don’t- I don’t. What? Why?”

“You need a mobile phone,” Crowley said, his tone was oddly authoritative. “Yesterday.”

“That’s where your mind went?” Aziraphale asked, skeptically.

“It took a while, but yes, yes that’s where I’ve ended up. We can talk more, later.” Crowley’s voice was clipped. Aziraphale could hear Crowley taking a deep breath. “Look, why don’t I pick you up some dinner, eh?” But it’s good yeah? All clear?”

“All clear,” Aziraphale confirmed, nodding to himself. “I can have some wine ready for you when you get here.”

“Angel, you’re a genius.”

Not quite an hour later, Aziraphale heard the front door of the shop unlock. The pitter patter of tiny feet ran through the crowded stacks. “Daddy!”

Aziraphale felt the tension he was still carrying within his physical body lessen at the sight of Adam, unharmed back in the book shop. Aziraphale scooped him up and allowed the boy to shower his face with slobbery wet baby kisses.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, as he stalked around the bookshop, miracleing all the blinds lower. “You alright?”

“I’ve been better,” Aziraphale mumbled. Adam had rested his cheek on his shoulder and Aziraphale couldn’t help but protectively tuck Adam’s head under his chin. “I’m sorry, you know.” Aziraphale planted a kiss at Adam’s hair line. “Gabriel and Michael showed up unannounced,” Aziraphale explained. “Surprise inspection.”

“Do they suspect anything?” Crowley asked, his body coiled with energy, ready to strike.

Aziraphale shook his head. “No. You know them. They weren’t pleased about these certain events and thought I had gone a little over board in America on hope and change, couldn’t even tell them I haven’t set foot in America in nearly a century, no formal reprimands, but over all my review went as well as could be expected.” 

“No questioning about a higher than expected number of child minded related miracles?”

“None at all.” Aziraphale felt his body slowly begin to relax. “I’m sorry Crowley. Adam. I-I’m so”

Crowley’s shoulders slumped forward. “Angel, you have nothing to apologize for,” Crowley whispered, taking a few steps closer, crushing Aziraphale and Adam in a hug. “Look, you panicked, yeah. I probably would have too.” Crowley shrugged. “But Adam’s safe, and, yeah, thinking I was home alone to all of a sudden having a screaming toddler on my bed was a bit much.” Crowley sighed. Crrowley pulled back slightly. “But we’re safe.”

Aziraphale nodded. “We’re safe.”

Adam’s small hand patted Aziraphale’s cheek affectionately. “Safe.”

Aziraphale let out a small, nervous chuckle at that. “Yes, that’s right dear, we’re all safe,.” He said, turning his full attention back toward Adam. He took a step back from Crowley. “Now, why don’t we eat some of that lovely dinner Papa picked up for us?”

“Eat!”

After Aziraphale and Crowley had gotten Adam fed and he was quietly playing on the floor of the back room of the bookshop, while Crowley showed Aziraphale his new phone.

“So, why do I need this again?” Aziraphale asked with a frown as Crowley tried to teach him how to take a selfie.

“So next time you get a surprise drop in, I can get more of a heads up,” Crowley explained as he made bunny ears behind Aziraphale’s head in their picture. “Plus, I thought it’d be fun if you ever got the hang of it. We could send each other funny pictures. Pictures of Adam.” Aziraphale hummed in thought. “Naughty pictures,” Crowley whispered in his ear.

Aziraphale coughed. “Crowley.”

“That’s not a ‘no,’ Angel,” Crowley noted.

Aziraphale didn’t dignify that with a response. “Actually, I had a rather different idea for better communication.”

Crowley’s face scrunched in confusion. “Wha-Aziraphale, I -“

“Oh, no, no, dear,” Aziraphale said with a small smile, taking one of Crowley’s hands. “I think, you might like this idea.” Aziraphale leaned over, whispering in Crowley’s ear. “You might find it tempting.”

Azirphale couldn’t help but smirk when Crowley did a double take. “Alright, I’m listening, angel.”

“I-I was thinking, what if,” Aziraphale took a deep steadying breath, “What if we had a third place, a place just for Adam, and us, to live? Away from all of this?”

Crowley, who rarely blinked his human eyelids, blinked repeatedly for a moment. He sputtered out some consonants before finally choking out, “Like, live together?”

“We practically do that already,” Aziraphale pointed out.

“I-Well-yes, but, but,” Crowley took a deep breath, “But you’re sure, Angel?”

Azriaphale smiled. “Of course, my dear. Never been more sure of anything. I love you, you know.” 

Crowley blinked again and slowly lowered himself to the floor. He laid at Aziraphale’s feet, unmoving.

“My dear, are you alright?”

“ ‘m having a bit of moment,” Crowley mumbled. He took a deep steadying breath. “You imagine something for six thousand years and then it happens and-“ Crowley took another, incredibly shaky breath. “Not really prepared.”

Adam toddled over from where he had been reading. “Is Papa crying?”

Crowley’s chin wobbled, dangerously. “No.”

“Papa hurt?” Adam asked, his voice filled with concern.

Crowley choked on any sort of reply he tried to come up with.

“Papa’s just lying there for a minute, Adam,” Aziraphale explained, picking up his new mobile phone.

“Oh,” Adam said, his voice carrying all the wisdom of an 18 month old. Adam laid down next to Crowley, before planting a drool filled kiss on Crowley’s cheek. “Better?”

“Perfect,” Aziraphale said, snapping a picture of the scene before him with his phone. “Simply perfect.”

“You’re lucky I love you too, Angel,” Crowley mumbled.

“I am. Very lucky.”

9 years 2 months ago

Crowley sniffed the air as he stepped out of the Bentley. Tadfield smelled suspicious in the way all quaint, small towns in the country side smelled. Full of nosy neighbors who gossiped, coveted, and sinned with that air of superiority. A veritable den of sin hiding perfectly amongst traditional small town living. It was a perfect place to hide.

Aziraphale’s mind didn’t work like that. “Ahh,” Azirphale sighed helping Adam out of his car seat. “Isn’t this lovely?” Aziraphale held Adam’s hand as they walked toward their new front door. “Adam, aren’t you excited?”

“Yeah!” Adam cheered loudly, his excitement even getting Crowley to smile a little.

“Oh your son is named Adam too?” Diedre Young asked as she carried her son out of number four Hogback Lane for the last time. “What a coincidence.”

“Isn’t it just?” Crowley replied, evenly. Crowley had, of course, kept tabs on both Adam Young and Warlock Dowling over the years. The legions of Hell, of course, believed that Warlock was still the antichrist and Adam Young, well, he’d be the first child suspected of being the antichrist if Warlock was ever found to be a normal human boy. It was best to keep an eye on them both.

Buying the Young’s house to further throw the scent off the perfectly innocent family? That was all Aziraphale.

“Getting that promotion,” Mr. Young said with a small shake of his head. “Nothing short of miraculous.”

“Quite,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s sideways glance upon him. That part had _not_ been Aziraphale’s doing. Not that Crowley would ever admit to any of it.

After final pleasantries and keys were exchanged the Youngs left Tadfield and the Fell Crowley household moved in.

“Let’s go check out that garden, Adam,” Crowley said as he took Adam’s other hand. “What do you say?”

“Up?” Adam asked. “Please?” he added.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Crowley picked Adam and balanced him on his hip.

“Still don’t know you both don’t topple over when you carry him like that, with the way your hips move,” Aziraphale teased.

“You never seem to complain about my hip movements,” Crowley replied, one eyebrow raising over the top of his sunglasses.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to reply but, some might say miraculously, the moving truck pulled up outside. Aziraphale made a few more aborted attempts at protest before he rolled his eyes and went back out front to deal with them. After all, using traditional human movers had been his idea.

“Papa, we go look at garden, please?” Adam asked, insistently. The drive from London to Tadfield had been far too exciting for Adam and Crowley didn’t need to be an occult entity to realize the toddler needed to blow off some energy.

Because the antichrist lived up to his reputation when he got hyper.

Crowley quickly strode through the small house and out the back door.

“Wow!” Adam said, his small head whipping around, taking in the wide open spaces of the garden and the fields beyond. Crowley had to admit that Adam, bouncing between Soho and Mayfair, had very little exposure to wide open spaces beyond occasional trips to the park. .

Crowley set him down gently in the grass. “Let’s check out these plants, eh Adam?” Adam, of course being of that age, immediately ran over to the row of plants marking the end of the property furthest from where Crowley stood.

Crowley used his height to catch up to him easily.

Crowley snuffed dismissively at the plants. They were well loved, but they didn’t know fear, and it showed. That _had_ to change. “Now Adam, what do we say to the misbehaving plants?”

Adams small face scrunched adorably before he leaned down to whisper to the plants “I love you anyway.”

“WHAT!” Crowley asked genuinely shocked. “Who told you to say that?”

“Daddy.” Adam said with the absolute, unshakable certainty of a two year old that could only be described as ‘who else do I even know?’

“Well, that does explain some things,” Crowley had thought his plants at the flat had gotten complacent recently. “Now Adam, watch me.” Crowley cracked his neck. “We’re gonna show these plants who’s boss.”

“Okay!” Adam cheered.

“Now listen up you pathetic excuse for a garden!” Crowley strode confidently over to a particularly pathetic looking bush. “There’s a new sheriff in town. I don’t know what kind of coddling you’ve gotten before, but it ends. Today.” Crowley turned and began walking along the row of brush that marked the end of their property. Adam toddled behind, like a baby duck. “You will get into shape. You will be behave yourselves. You will grow lush and beautiful or you will face the consequences.” Crowley came up to a branch covered with spotted leaves. He snapped it off with a flick of his wrist. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

The plants across the whole yard gave a shudder.

Adam let out a frankly demonic giggle. Crowley felt a surge of pride until Adam began lovingly stroking his hand across a lower branch of the shrub. “Its ok, you’re okay” he whispered to the plant.

Crowley was about to day something when he was rudely interrupted. “Excuse me, excuse me young man!” An older gentleman was striding across the field behind the house to the property line. “Young man, Tell me, young man, what exactly it is you’re doing here.”

Crowley immediately wanted to tell the old man off, just for the humor of it, but if they were going to live here in Tadfield Crowley imagined he’d have to “play nice” with the locals. “My family and I bought this house from the Young’s, just took over today,” Crowley offered his hand over a shorter bush. “Anthony J. Crowley.”

“R. P. Tyler,” after hesitation he shook Crowley’s hand. “Neighborhood watch.”

Busy body Crowley’s mind supplied for him. That could either useful or a huge pain in the arse. Hard to say yet.

Crowley felt a tug on his jeans leg. “Papa, up please?” Adam asked, he hated not being included. Crowley scooped him up and balanced him on his hip again. When Adam was more eye level with Tyler he smiled. “Hi, I’m Adam.”

Tyler eyed Adam with less suspicion then he did Crowley, but not by much. “Adam Crowley,” Tyler confirmed. Crowley winced, that felt a little too on the nose, even for the Anti-Christ. He’d probably have to talk it over with Aziraphale later. “So you are a family man.” The mans guard lowered another fraction.

“Yep,” Crowley said, irrelevantly popping the ‘p’. “Just looking for a nice quiet place to raise our son. R.P. Tyler regarded that with a nod. “That seems perfectly reasonable. And Tadfield is a good place to do just that.”

“Crowley, crowley, my dear, the movers had a question for you,” Aziraphale called out from the back door. Spotting the group Aziraphale began walking toward them. “Oh, hello!”

When Crowley turned back to Tyler the man’s scowl had not only returned but deepened. Great. One of those. “I see,” he muttered before turning and leaving quickly.

When Aziraphale was even with Crowley and Adam he was also frowning. “What was that about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, angel. Just the neighborhood bigot.”

“Lovely,” Aziraphale replied sarcastically.

Aziraphale and Adam left the new house for a stroll through Tadfield shortly thereafter, Crowley was arranging the furniture, his exact words being, “I love you, Angel, but you have the design sense of a hoarder.”

And well, it was Adams lunch time anyway. He had seen a lovely looking little restaurant when they had drove in and thought it would be just as good as any place to look into for a meal.

Aziraphale was pushing Adam in a jogging stroller, the walk seemed a bit too far, and Aziraphale didn’t want to over estimate Adams walking abilities. 

“Daddy, I’m hungry!” Speak of the anti-Christ.

“I know darling, I know,” Aziraphale replied. “Almost there.” They rounded the corner and the small restaurant was in sight. “See, there we are.”

Adam let out a small, “wahoo!” As they entered the restaurant. Azriaphale couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. Adam and Aziraphale were small seat in the window that was miraculously open. Aziraphale sat next to Adam, helping him eat his own food, he was becoming independent in that way and Aziraphale thought it was easiest to teach manners young. Or at least he figured it was easier.

Currently Adam however, did not give a damn about manners as he shoved chips into his mouth.

“Adam, slow down, you’ll choke,” Aziraphale warned.

“Nuh uh,” Adam mumbled around a mouthful.

“What have I said about talking with your mouth full?” Azriaphale reminded him. Adam swallows his mouth then stuck his tongue out “showing” that he had swallowed. He wiggled the tip of his tongue in a way he could have only learned from Crowley. “Really, dear?”

Adam giggled. “What?” He asked as if he were the most perfectly innocent child in the world and not living up to his destiny.

At that moment a woman walked into the restaurant, carrying a small child of her own. They both had on thick glasses. Aziraphale noted the child seemed to be about Adams age. After they had placed their order the woman walked purposefully over to Aziraphale.

“Excuse me,” she began. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you didn’t happen to buy the Young’s house, over on Hogback lane did you?”

Aziraphale smilek broadly. “We did, as a matter of fact,” he replied.

“Oh good, Diedre had said another family was moving in, but we were worried about poor Youngster here having fewer people his age in town.” The woman gestured to her son. “I’m Mrs. Wensleydale.”

“Arthur Fell and my son, Adam.” Aziraphale motioned to the seats on the other side of the table. “Would you like to join us?” Aziraphale nudged the chair across from him out silently with a miracle.

“Well, if you don’t mind,” she said as she arranged her child in the seat across from Adam. Once the Wensleydales were both seated she turned back to Aziraphale. “So, what made you want to move out here to Tadfield?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips together tightly. He hadn’t thought this through. “Hmm, well.” Luck of the Devil, at that moment Adam grabbed another handful of chips and attempted to shove them all in his mouth. “Adam, one at a time,” he gently chided the child.

“But daddy, I’m hungry now,” Adam huffed.

“And also tired,” Azriaphale added under his breath.

“Youngster gets the same way around this time of day,” Mrs. Wensleydale added sympathetically. “Isn’t that right dear?” Youngster, Aziraphale still hadn’t caught the child’s first name, shyly buried his face in his mother’s side. “I’m sorry, he gets shy around nap time. And lunch time.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m often the same way.”

The young boy across from Adam offered a small smile in return.

They wrapped up their lunch with light chit chat and as they stood outside Mrs. Wensleydale turned to him with a determined look. “This Friday you should come over and join us for dinner, the boys can play and my husband and I can give you and your wife the lay of the land.”

And for the first time Aziraphale realized what Crowley mean when he accused him of ‘weaponizing manners’. “Oh yes, Adam and I would love that, though, I don’t have a wife, I do however have a husband.” Aziraphale gave Mrs. Wensleydale a wide smile and radiated just a hint of heavenly love. “I hope that’s alright.”

Mrs. Wensleydales eyes widened slightly but she shook her head vigorously. “Oh no, no trouble at all. I’m so sorry, I just didn’t realize-it’s fine. Perfectly fine, I-“

“It’s quite alright,” Aziraphale assured her. “Friday, yes?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a vigourous nod. “At around six? So the boys can still go to bed at a normal time?”

Aziraphale grinned. “Sounds wonderful.”

Eight years eleven months ago.

Crowley walked with Adam on his shoulders toward Tadfield’s small playground. Aziraphale was spending the day at the shop and taking care of any temptations or miracles that came through. It was a lovely summer day and Crowley wanted nothing more than to stretch out in the garden as a snake and just absorb all the heat. But the only way he could get away with that was if he could get Adam down for a nap and the nearly three year old had decided naps were the work of... someone who didn’t like Adam.

Which is why they were at the park, to tire Adam out.

“Papa, there are no ducks!” Adam shouted, his small hand pointing to a small pond at the edge of the park. “Where’s our ducks?”

“This isn’t the park in London, Adam, they may not have ducks,” Crowley explained. “They wouldn’t be our ducks anyway if there were some.”

“That’s not right, there should be ducks,” Adam insisted, he accidentally pulled Crowley’s hair, causing Crowley to wince.

“Adam What have we said about hair pulling?” Crowley warned.

“Oops, Sorry Papa.” Adam leaned forward and placed a kiss on the top of Crowley’s head.

Luckily, they had come across the play area. Crowley could feel Adam practically vibrate with anticipation. “Alright, ready to play fearless leader?” Crowley asked.

“Yes!” Adam cheered excitedly. Crowley slowly folded himself down to the ground. Adam, once at a safe distance from the ground jumped off dramatically ready to run off and play. Crowley hung at the edge of the area as Adam ran straight for a small climbing structure.

Crowley felt a wholly undemonic affection, watching Adam play. He was growing up so fast. His birthday would be here before they knew it and that was another year to Armageddon. Would they be ready? Would Adam survive? Would Aziraphale?

“Excuse me, you’re one of the blokes who moved into the Young’s old place on Hogback lane, right?” A woman asked, snapping Crowley out of his despair. He turned and glanced at her. She had on a shirt that read “this is what a feminist looks like” on and cut off jeans.

“Hm?” How long had he been probably staring into space? His eyes scanned the play ground and Adam was still on the same climbing structure, playing with a young girl with curly hair. “Oh yes, I am sorry.”

The woman smiled. “No worries, I’m Alice though friends call me Arwen.” The woman offered her hand and Crowley shook it trying not to eye her too suspiciously. “My little girl, Pepper, is over there, playing with the boy I believe is your son.”

Crowley smirked. “Oh, so she is.” The little girl was showing Adam how to hang upside down. Aziraphale would have a stroke but Crowley could see that even if they did fall, it wasn’t far enough to do permanent damage. At least Arwen was acting like it want far enough, she seemed very casual, which was so refreshing for Tadfield. “Yes, that’s my son Adam Fell, and my name is Anthony Crowley, though, most people just call me Crowley.”

“Yes, it’s just so-“ The woman searched for a word, “refreshing, to not be the only misfit in Tadfield.”

Crowley liked the sound of that. “Oh?” He smiled and turned more fully toward Arwen. “And what gossip is Tadfields first same sex couple stealing the thunder of?”

“Tadfield’s resident single mother of course,” Arwen said with a laugh.

“Den of sin,” Crowley said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Really it wasn’t even a sin, humans got such weird ideas though and he rolled with it. “What is Tadfield coming to?”

“We’re all doomed.” She shifted on her feet awkwardly. “Anyway, Yes, I just wanted to introduce myself and hope we could meet for play dates in the future?” She leaned in shyly. “I get frozen out of many of the mum circles around.” She shrugged. “I personally don’t mind, but Pepper will only grow and develop if she has more friends her age.”

“And we misfits have to stick together,” Crowley said with a nod.

There was a splash behind them as Arwen kept talking, but Crowley didn’t hear what she was saying. All Crowley could hear was the sound of ducks quacking in the pond behind him. Ducks that had not been there before. Surely, they had flown in when he hadn’t paid attention and Crowley was overreacting. Surely. He glanced over his shoulder to look back at the pond.

Now, Crowley and Aziraphale has been watching the ducks at St. James’s park for centuries at this point. So it was safe to say Crowley knew those ducks. He’s watched their family grow and change and evolve. He could name their patterns and coloration variations down to the feather.

And apparently now they ALL had identical twins living in a park in Tadfield.

At least he hoped they were twins. Or clones.

Adam turned toward the pond, “Look Papa, our ducks!” He jumped off the climbing toy. And ran toward Crowley. “Told you!”

Fuck a duck.

How much trouble would he be in if he asked Aziraphale to check on the ducks before he came home and make sure Adam hadn’t accidentally transported every duck out of London?

Five years 9 moths ago

Adam swallowed nervously as his Papa’s car drove to the school. It’s not that he wasn’t excited to meet new people, he was. And he was very excited to hear new stories, Daddy assured him there would be plenty of stories which was definitely a good thing.

It’s just, in Adam’s 5 years of life thus far, he’s never has had a moment where his parents were so far away for so long. Both of them. Even when he’s spent the day or evening with Wensleydale or Pepper his parents had always been there, he could feel them in his heart. He just wasn’t sure if it would be the same while he was at school.

Daddy turned around in his seat and smiled at him. “Adam, aren’t you excited?” He asked with a wide smile.

“Umm, maybe?” Adam decided after a moment.

“He’s nervous,” Papa explained as he turned the car down another street.

Daddy’s face whipped between the pair of them. “Nervous, really?”

Adam frowned. “Just a little bit,” he admitted turning his face away to look at the window.

“Well the books say that’s perfectly normal my dear,” His daddy assured him. “But think of all the fun you’ll have.”

Papa surprisingly agreed. “Pepper will be there, and Wensleydale. You three can get into all sorts of trouble.”

“Or learn a great deal,” Aziraphale added quickly.

“Sure, Angel, sure.” He nodded with a small smile. Papa added more quietly, “But I still think you shouldn’t have read him _Matilda_.” Daddy rolled his eyes. Papa pulled the car up in front of the school. “Here we go.”

Papa helped Adam out of the car and Daddy helped him put his backpack on. Adam grabbed both of their hands and held tightly as they walked into the building. Adam’s eyes flitted nervously around looking at the other students and their mummies and daddies. Daddy led them to the classroom.

The room was an explosion of color and activity. More children his age than Adam had ever seen in his life were milling around the classroom, as were their parents. In one corner of the room, the Wensleydales were taking pictures. Pepper’s mummy was in a very animated discussion with the teacher as Pepper scuffed her uniform shoes on the floor. There were groups of desks scattered across the room with a play area in one corner and a small area full of books in another. Adam wasn’t sure which corner he wanted to check out first, but that did make him feel better, that Daddy and Papa were right about the fun and the stories.

Daddy led them over to a row of hooks and helped Adam out of his backpack and jacket. Adam could do it himself, obviously, but a little help from Daddy was nice when he felt overwhelmed.

Then he took out his phone and started snapping pictures of his own. “Now, Adam, smile for me, dear,” Daddy said, kneeling in front of him. Adam smiled shyly.

“Really, angel, didn’t you get enough at home?” Papa asked after a few snaps.

Adam giggled as Daddy glared at Papa. “A few more can’t hurt.”

Daddy then insisted on getting a few pictures of Papa and Adam at Adam’s desk, which Papa insisted being silly in, which was much more Adam’s speed. Papa then forced Daddy into pictures as well, taking selfies.

Adam nearly forgot his nervousness until a bell rang.

The teacher announced it was time for the parents to leave Daddy knelt down. “You’re going to have so much fun today, and I’ll be here when you get out alright? You can tell me all about it then.”

Adam smiled and gave his Daddy a hug and a kiss.

Then it was Papa’s turn. “You’re gonna be fine Adam,” Papa said ruffling his hair. “These other kids don’t have anything on you.”

“Crowley.”

And with that Daddy and Papa left the classroom.

“Children,” the teacher began. She was an older woman, well, every woman was older than Adam, but her hair looked more like Daddy’s than other younger women’s, like Pepper or Wensleydale’s mummies. Adam didn’t know many women though. “Everyone take your seats.”

Adam quietly slid into his chair. He looked across the room, Pepper and Wensleydale were at different desk groups, which was disappointing.

“Now, I want everyone to go around your small groups and introduce yourselves, tell eachother your names, favorite colors, a little about your families and something you like about yourself. We’re going to practice using our inside voices, alright?”

Adam’s small group looked at each other. Papa would have wanted him to go first, Daddy would say to wait his turn. Before Adam could make a decision another boy caddy corner from him butted in, “I’ll go first. My name is David Redd. My favorite color is blue and my mummy stays at home while my daddy runs a bank.” The boy got a look similar to when Papa had successfully tempted Daddy into doing something naughty, he think they called it smug. “And I like that my daddy got me the coolest shoes at the shops for starting school.”

A little boy sitting to Adam’s left frowned. “Your name is red but your favorite color is blue?” the boy asked.

“My name isn’t like the color, it has extra letters.” David crossed his arms. “Because it’s cool.”

“Well, my name is Brian,” the boy to Adam’s left explained. “My favorite color is blue.”

“Your favorite color can’t be blue, mine is.”

“That’s not what my older sister says,” Brian explained. “I have an older sister, Bella, a mummy and a daddy. Mummy is a nurse and daddy works with cars.” He bit his lip in thought. “I like that I have a sister to tell me how school works, even if sometimes she can be mean about it.”

“I still don’t think you can have the same favorite color,” David said with a pout.

Adam sat up straight, it was his turn. Daddy always told him to stand up straight when he introduced himself. “Hi. My name is Adam. My favorite color is red.” Adam thought that could be confusing. “Like the color, not like you.” David frowned, which only confused Adam, he was trying to be nice. “I live with my Daddy and my Papa. Daddy owns a bookshop and Papa…” Adam’s face scrunched, he wasn’t sure what his papa did. He thought back to conversations Daddy and Papa had at the dinner table. “Papa does wiles.”

“You can’t have a Daddy and a Papa,” David explained, giving Adam a frankly rude stare. “You can only have one and then you have to have a mummy.”

Adam looked at Redd confused. “But I do. I have Daddy and I have Papa.”

“Do you have a mummy?” the little girl across from Adam asked, finally piping up.

“No,” Adam said with a shake of his head. “Just Daddy and Papa.”

“That’s not possible,” David insisted. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” Adam said utterly confused at this point.

“Look, if he says he has a Daddy and a Papa, he probably does,” Brian said with a decisive nod. “Why would he lie?”

“It doesn’t make sense!”

As the teacher slowly walked over, making all of them nervous.

Brian looked at the girl across from Adam, “You should start. We probably won’t get in trouble if you start right now.”

When Brian proved right, Adam decided that he had a new friend, he just hoped Brian got along with Wensleydale and Pepper.

“Where’s Papa?” Adam asked after he swallowed the last bit of the snack Daddy had ready for him. They were sitting in the kitchen and he had been telling Daddy all about his first day of school and how he, Brian, Pepper, and Wensleydale had all made it to the top of the playground.

Daddy frowned. “I’m not really sure, he wasn’t here when I left to run some errands and then I picked you up from school. I haven’t seen him.”

“But the car is here,” Adam said with a frown of his own.

“He’s probably napping,” Daddy said with a small smile and a roll of his eyes. His smile grew and let out a small laugh. “You know, one time he napped for one hundred years,” he said, like he was telling Adam a great secret.

“No way!” Adam said, amazed that anyone could not only like napping, but nap for one hundred years. That was the longest time he could think of.

“He did, it’s true,” Daddy said with another smile. “Let’s go find him, shall we?”

“I’ll check the garden!” Adam ran out the back door before Daddy even got up.

Adam surveyed the back yard carefully. The plants along the edges of the garden had grown high and thick. Papa yelled at them every day and Daddy had whispered encouragement whenever Papa wasn’t there. Adam alternated depending on what each plant needed. He walked through the area carefully, going to one of Papa’s favorite napping spots.

Sure enough, there in a sunny corner of the garden on a large flat rock was an enormous black snake with a red belly. It was definitely sleeping. Adam approached it slowly before he sat quietly next to it. He began to poke its head gently. “Papa,” he whispered. “Papa, it’s time to wake up.”

The snake twitched and it’s eyes suddenly became sharp and alert in a way they had not been before. The snake moved its body upward, and stretched it’s head back, before directly looking at Adam, at his eye level.

“Daddy said I had to find you,” Adam said. “I’m home from school!”

The snake recoiled slightly, it’s body wiggled in a preparation Adam knew all too well. The snake lunged forward with a sharp hiss and Adam found himself tackled to the grass by his Papa, now in human shape. “Ssssssup Adam?” Papa said with a smile. “How was sschool? Get into trouble?”

Adam giggled as they played one of his favorite games with Papa. Adam wiggled, trying to get out of Papa’s grip. Instead of replying he took out his tongue and hissed (well his version anyway). 

Papa hissed back, his tongue tickling Adam’s face. Adam’s giggles grew louder and he struggled harder, nearly slipping out of the trap.

“School was good,” Adam said between hiccupping laughs. “But I had a question.”

“A question?” Papa asked a question of his own. He sat up, dragging adam into his lap and wrapping him up into a hug, Adam’s back resting against his Papa’s chest. “What’s your question?”

Adam knew he didn’t have to be shy around Papa. Papa always answered his questions and Papa didn’t ask why Adam was asking him and not his Daddy, because Papa knew Adam was looking for an answer he couldn’t get anywhere else. However, this question made Adam quiet. “Umm, A boy at school said something today that-“ Adam frowned. He thought this was important, that’s why he was here. But he wasn’t sure why it felt important. “He said that everyone has a Mummy and a Daddy. When I said I didn’t he told me I was lying.”

“Lying?” he Papa asked softly. Papa usually didn’t interrupt, but if he did, it was because he wanted to understand.

Adam nodded. “Or that I was wrong.” Adam fiddled with the chain on Papa’s jeans. “But when I told him I wasn’t wrong he said it wasn’t possible.”

“I see,” Papa said, holding Adam tighter. “So what do you want to know?”

“I dunno,” Adam admitted. He actually had nearly one hundred questions, so many he didn’t know where to start. “Just, well, talking to everyone at school, most of them do have a mummy and daddy, just me and Pepper are different.” Adam looked up at Papa’s face. “I love you and daddy and I don’t care if I don’t have a mummy,” he explained. “I guess. I guess I just wanna know, why?”

“Well,” Papa hummed in thought, which Adam knew meant Papa had heard him, but needed to think about the answer. Luckily this was not a long pause before he began, “When you arrived, you didn’t have a mummy. You needed someone to take care of you. I was supposed to take you to be adopted but all the families that wanted babies already had one. So, I took you to Daddy’s bookshop because I didn’t know where else to go. So, we adopted you. You’ve been ours ever since.”

“But you’re two boys. You’re not mummies.”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Papa said with a nod. “That’s right. Most families here in Tadfield are mummies and daddies and their children. But that’s not all families, your classmate is wrong.” Adam couldn’t help but smile at that. He knew it. “Sometimes families look different.”

“So what do I say if he tells me I can’t not have a mummy?”

“That you’re adopted and that you have two daddies and he can pound sand,” Papa explained.

“And what does ‘adopted’ mean?”

“It’s what happens when babies without a mummy or daddy are given to a family that doesn’t have a baby.”

Daddy had finally made his way out to the part of the lawn Adam and Papa were sitting in. “Is everything alright out here, my dears?”

“I was explaining what adoption means,” Papa explained calmly. “Because Adam’s classmates had some questions. Did you have anything you wanted to add?”

Daddy’s head pulled back slightly, and he blinked once. “Ah, well.” Daddy thought for a moment. “I would tell your classmates Adam that being adopted means.” He sighed. “It means you came to us a bit differently than most babies. But that means we had a choice if we wanted to be parents or not, but we chose you, because we love you and we love each other.” He smiled, but it was a little wobbly. “And I can’t thank your Papa enough every day for giving us that chance.” 

“Oh, okay,” Adam nodded. “That makes sense.” Adam moved to get out of Papa’s lap but he found himself stuck. Before he knew it Papa had carried Adam over to Daddy. He found himself squished between the two. They were whispering to each other and then they began kissing. “Eww,” Adam said, trying to get away.

Daddy and Papa both laughed lightly and Papa set him down. Daddy and Papa stood in the yard holding each other for a while, until Adam decide to tackle them both.

Sometimes they could be far too serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as this fic continues to spiral completely out of control in length (in what's hopefully a good way) I have made the decision to update with this and let you all know I've upped the chapter count. Next chapter will continue with some more flash backs and then the altered events of the present featured in "Hard Times" and probably beyond. 
> 
> If I should have waited, let me know, but it had been over a week since I updated and I was getting antsy myself. 
> 
> Tumblr and Twitter are always Yarsian.


	4. People Talk About You, People Say you've had Your Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More snippets of Adam's youth, Adam bonds with Anathema, and Crowley doubts

Chapter 4- People Talk About You, People Say you've had Your Day 

5 Years ago, two days before Christmas

Aziraphale sat somewhat uncomfortably in the passenger seat of the Bentley. It was the beginning Adam’s winter holiday and they were stuck in the rush of traffic trying to escape London. While Aziraphale and Crowley could, in theory, simply teleport themselves between Tadfield and London, it raised suspicion to do it too often, especially if they had a child in tow. That, and of course Crowley would only stop driving the Bentley if it were made of Holy Water, and Aziraphale wasn’t even sure that would stop him.

“If a _certain_ angel knew how to thwart a six-year old snooping, we wouldn’t be stuck in this traffic. But no, a six-year old figured out all his presents mere days before Christmas and now we have to go to London for last minute gifts,” Crowley grumbled. “It’s a shame I can’t go around faster, because we can’t risk it with Adam in the car. It’d be such a shame if I broke my ninety-year accident-free history today of all days.” The sarcasm didn’t drip off of him so much as pour out of Crowley’s comically contorted mouth. 

Aziraphale hummed. “Personally, I blame whoever designed the M-25. It almost seems like the designer purposefully made it one of the most frustrating things of the past six-thousand years, second only to the designer himself,” Aziraphale replied, rolling his eyes pointedly before turning his head to look at Crowley.

Crowley’s jaw fell open and turned to look at Aziraphale. Aziraphale should complain about him not watching the road, but considering how they were currently stopped, he wasn’t concerned. “You bastard,” Crowley said, somehow both appalled and fond. “How d-“

“Yes, dare you swear in front of Adam?” Aziraphale rallied. Aziraphale tutted and rolled his eyes again.

“I said I was sorry,” Adam sighed from the back.

Earlier that day Adam’s teacher had called Aziraphale and Crowley into the school to go over his progress. While Adam’s language skills, creativity, and vocabulary were higher than average for a child his age, the teacher had explained that his vocabulary included many four letter words she did not feel were appropriate for the classroom. She also explained, somewhat confused, that Adam’s understanding of when to use them was a bit skewed, as he’d sometimes say phrases she associated more with church sermons than with swearing. The resulting fight over who had the worse potty mouth had been going on ever since.

“You say ‘damn.’ I say ‘bless.’ Adam says ‘damn.’ He did not get it from me, angel,” Crowley hissed through gritted teeth.

“But where did he learn ‘For Satan’s sake,’ my dear?”

Adam let out a groan in the back seat. “I _said_ I was sorry,” Adam repeated annoyed.

“We’re not mad at you, Adam,” Crowley said with a sigh. “Well, yes, you are in trouble at school and we’re mad about that. We-” He motioned between himself and Aziraphale “-are just arguing. It’s not- it’s-"

“We’re frustrated with each other, and the traffic, but not you,” Aziraphale finished for him. “However, you are going to bed with no electronics, so you’re still being punished.”

“Yes,” Crowley said with a little nod. Luckily traffic began to move again somewhat. “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.”

“You just need to watch what you say at school,” Aziraphale said calmly. “We all need to watch what we say.”

“All of us?” Crowley asked quietly.

“Yes, all of us,” Aziraphale admitted. “So we can have peace at Christmas.”

“Most wonderful time of the year,” Crowley mumbled.

“Why did the teacher think my swearing was weird anyway?” Adam said frowning, looking out the window. “Why does everyone think I’m weird?”

An awkward silence fell over the car, even the Bentley’s radio had lowered its volume. Aziraphale and Crowley briefly shot each other concerned and confused looks.

“What do you mean, Adam?” Crowley asked gently.

Adam pouted and looked out the window, away from both of them. Aziraphale personally thought Adam had learned how to sulk from Crowley, but Crowley insisted Adam had the angel’s frown.

“Is- is this about having two fathers again?” Aziraphale asked. The previous time Aziraphale and Crowley had been called to the school was because there had been a school yard scuffle between Adam and his friends against another group of children. At the conference with all the children involved and their parents, it was Brian who was the first to explain what had happened. One of the boys, David, had called Wensleydale a word that wasn’t very kind. Adam had gone to stand up for him when the boys had told Adam his fathers were the same word. More words apparently been exchanged and then a fight broke out, each side blaming the other for throwing the first punch. Adam didn’t get into trouble at home for that. 

In fact, Aziraphale may have miracled air out of all the other parent’s tires and killed their batteries for months after the fact, and if cornered he wouldn’t even have denied it.

Adam sighed. “No, well, sort of. It’s,” he bit his lip in frustration. “It’s lots of stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?” Crowley asked turning around to look at Adam. Traffic had once again slowed to a crawl.

“Well, a while ago, I heard some of the kids making fun of the younger kids for wanting their scrapes and stuff kissed better. I didn’t understand why, because when you guys do it, it always gets better,” he explained. “But if Pepper or Brian gets hurt? Nothing, they have scrapes for days. And even they thought it was weird, I still want kisses when I get hurt. But _my_ scrapes get better when I show them to you.”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged looks. Crowley’s was determined, Aziraphale’s was nervous, but he nodded at Crowley nonetheless. Crowley had always answered Adam's questions truthfully, sometimes too truthfully. Crowley thought a prepared Adam was safer than one who would turn eleven completely unprepared. Aziraphale was forced to admit that not only was Crowley probably right, but that he hadn’t exactly thought of concealing himself from Adam either before this exact moment. The thought had never crossed his mind.

“What are you asking, Adam?” Aziraphale asked, as he’d heard Crowley do many times in order to buy himself more time.

“I dunno,” Adam said, tossing his head in frustration. “I just, I just know I’m different and our family is weird.”

“Weird?” Crowley asked with a raised eyebrow.

“And it’s not even the dads thing, it’s things like, other people’s parents can’t turn into snakes, and one time, when I asked about Wensleydale’s parents wings, he thought we were playing pretend, but I wasn’t. I was asking because you guys had just spent the whole weekend straightening each other’s feathers.” Adam’s voice was frustrated. “I know we’re different, that’s okay, I just want to know if one of you is a secret Avenger or something? Or you know, why we’re different.” Adam took a deep breath. “I know we’re different, I just want to know the right words.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something, but nothing could come to his mind. Adam was right. They had never been shy about being themselves, but Aziraphale realized that Adam didn’t know how his parents were different from humans. “I, we’re- not… er Avengers,” he managed to choke out.

“But we are different,” Crowley confirmed. He made a few failed attempts at explaining himself before sighing. “Look, what is your Dad’s nickname I call him?”

“Angel,” Adam responded.

“That’s-That’s what I am,” Azirphale explained. He glanced nervously back at Adam, his hands involuntarily balled on his trousers. “I’m an angel.”

Adam’s face turned toward Crowley. “What about you, Pop? Are you like... a snake angel?”

Crowley grimaced slightly, his cheeks flushing. “Not an angel,” Crowley said. “I’m a demon.”

Adam frowned. “I thought demons were supposed to be scary and mean,” Adam said, his face further scrunching in confusion. “I mean, all the time, not just sometimes.”

Crowley couldn’t fully contain the chuckle that sprang from his throat. “Thank you, I think. Not sure for what part though,” he said after he calmed down.

“Wait, Dad gets angry, angels aren’t like that,” Adam said. “I thought they just flew around and brought people good news.”

“Well, like you said, we do both have wings. And really, Dad’s never been like any other angels I’ve known,” Crowley said with a smile and an affectionate squeeze of Aziraphale's thigh. “He’s better than the rest of them.”

Aziraphale rested his hand over Crowley’s. “And Papa- er, Pop is the most unique demon I have ever met.”

“Also the only demon you’ve ever really met,” Crowley said, grinning. “But honestly, Adam, we wouldn’t lie to you about this. We’ve always shown you what we are.”

Adam was quiet for a moment, his face staring out the window. “Okay,” he said after a bit. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense.” His face turned back to them, less confusion than before. “But other people’s parents?”

“They’re humans,” Aziraphale explained patiently. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. “Pepper, Wensley, Brian, and their parents are all humans.”

Adam stared quietly out the window for a while. The car moved forward slowly. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he wanted to go ahead and tell Crowley to speed home so this conversation could happen differently, and perhaps over a glass of brandy. He glanced over to Crowley, who was unsubtly watching Adam in the rearview mirror. He flashed Aziraphale a reassuring smile.

Aziraphale and Crowley worried differently. Crowley would pretend to be calm in the moment, but worried about the future. Aziraphale worried in the moment, but could focus Crowley enough to plan for the future. The partnership worked for both of them well. And hopefully one day it would serve Adam well too. Right now, Crowley was definitely soothing Aziraphale’s present fears.

The Bentley’s radio seemingly turned itself up to fill the silence. The lovely little song about best friends played softly.

Traffic had cleared somewhat and Crowley took off quickly, weaving through traffic. Aziraphale couldn’t find it in his heart to complain.

Just as Aziraphale thought he could breathe again Adam spoke up, his voice even softer than it had been before, “What about me?”

“What about you?”

“If you’re an angel and a demon, why are you working together? Why are _you_ _my_ parents?”

Aziraphale heard Crowley sigh deeply. “I thought we’d have a few more years before this question,” He admitted under his breath.

“So I’m not normal?” Adam said, a hint of panic in his voice. “What’s wrong with me?”

“We can’t have this conversation in the car,” Crowley declared. Luckily, now that they were more out of London the road was clear enough that Crowley could pull off to the side. As they exited the car Aziraphale grabbed Adam’s hand and they walked into a small group of trees. Aziraphale felt Crowley make them unnoticeable, and he was relieved. They didn’t need any interruptions.

“Adam, listen to me,” Aziraphale said, his calm voice surprising even himself. He knelt down in front of Adam so he could look him in the eye. “No, you’re not a normal human. But that doesn’t mean we love you any less. We have always known everything.”

“And before we tell you, please, please just remember that part, alright?” Crowley said, kneeling next to Aziraphale, removing his sunglasses. “Because that’s the important bit.”

Adam trembled, though if it was from the cold or fear, well, Aziraphale didn’t want to think about that. “Is there something wrong with me?” he repeated, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Nothing is wrong,” Crowley assured him. “You-You’re,” he hissed in frustration. “You’re special. Different.”

“Yes, special,” Aziraphale agreed, quickly, possibly too quickly.

“Special how?” Adam asked with a frown. More tears spilled out of his eyes and Aziraphale brushed them away without a thought. Snow had begun to fall and the last thing they needed was Adam’s face to freeze with tears.

Aziraphale opened his mouth several times trying to find a satisfying way to explain without frightening Adam. “You- you were born-created- for a purpose.” Aziraphale winced. His explanation sounded so clinical and distant.Angelic. 

Thankfully Crowley took over. “You were born with a destiny,” Crowley explained gently. His eyes glanced upward, searching for the right words. “And, well, its- it’s not nice- not exactly- but, we’re trying to make sure you don’t have to do it.”

Adam was still frowning, but the tears had gone. His eyes flitted back and forth between Aziraphale and Crowley, looking for reassurance. Crowley’s hand was stroking Adam’s hair out of his eyes. “So- so I’m evil?” Adam whispered.

“Adam,” Aziraphale said with the utmost certainty. “That’s what we’re trying to prevent.”

“Right,” Crowley nodded. “You were born to do something bad, very bad, but we’re _not_ gonna let that happen.”

Adam began to cry in earnest now and Crowley had pulled him into a hug before Aziraphale could even react. The angel settled for rubbing Adam’s back gently.

“I don’t wanna be evil,” Adam sobbed into the folds of Crowley’s jacket.

“It’s alright Adam, it’s not all bad,” Crowley soothed. “I’m supposed to be evil too, but you know, other demons don’t think so. And well, between you and me, sometimes I am pretty rubbish at it.”

Adam sniffled. “Really?”

“He is a demon,” Aziraphale said with a small smile. Adam hiccupped and turned his head toward Aziraphale, still clinging to Crowley. “In fact, you’ve heard the story of Adam and Eve, haven’t you?”

Adam could only nod. He took a step away from Crowley to wrap one arm around Aziraphale, the three of them in an awkward group hug.

“I was the snake,” Crowley said, pulling back slightly so he could look at Adam’s face. “I tempted Eve to eat the apple.”

“Nuh-uh,” Adam replied automatically. “That was like- forever ago.”

“Six thousand years, give or take,” Aziraphale said.

“There’s no way.”

“Do you see any other snake demons around?” Crowley asked teasingly.

Adam’s mouth twitched, the tiniest hint of a smile daring to peak out. “N-no.”

“It’s true,” Aziraphale said with a smile of his own and a nod. “I was there, too.”

Adam smiled, seemingly in spite of himself. He pulled both Aziraphale and Crowley in tightly. “I-I’m scared,” he whispered to both of them.

“It’s alright, we’ve got you,” Aziraphale whispered back.

“No matter what happens,” Crowley affirmed.

“I love you,” Adam said, his voice still shaky. “I love you both.”

“And we love you,” Crowley replied.

“Absolutely,” Aziraphale planted a kiss at Adam’s hairline.

Adam clung to them tighter, but his tears slowly subsided. “I’m cold,” he admitted. “Can we go home now?”

They walked slowly back to the car, which had miraculously stayed warm while they were talking. If the drive home was miraculously quick, well, Aziraphale didn’t say a word.

Three years ago 

Adam laughed as water sprayed his face. He ran away, trying not to slip as he splashed some water up toward Pepper. The water gun fight and sprinkler party that had erupted in the park that hot summer day was some of the most fun Adam had had all year.

Adam had gone with Brian and his family. Once there though, it had been easy for them to go off on their own. They were much more easygoing than his parents.

Pepper, Wensley, Brian and he were all playing Space Soldier with water laser guns. Pepper and Brian were trying to invade Wensley and Adam’s turf and they would not surrender. They hung to the side of the area, so no one would bother them.

Or, at least, that had been the goal.

David and his friends had spotted them across the way and slowly began to walk toward them.

Dad’s voice rang in his ears, ‘They’re not worth your time, walk away.’ He knew after the incident at the start of Year 2 he probably wouldn’t get in much trouble if something were to happen, and in fact Dad and Pop might even reward him, but Adam didn’t want to test it. Wensley and Brian’s parents definitely would not react well to another fight.

Partially on instinct and partially to be casual, Adam charged toward Brian in a brilliant offensive move, causing him and Pepper to retreat more into the wood. Wensley and Adam followed as they walked further into the wood.

Brian looked over Adam’s shoulder. “They‘re not following us,” Brian said, relieved.

“Damn,” Pepper mumbled under her breath. At Wensley’s glare she softened slightly. “Well, I guess its okay, this time.”

Adam sighed and felt himself relax. He pushed his wet bangs back from his head. “Do you want to just go back to my house or the fort?” Adam asked with a shrug. “They aren’t bothering us here and we could probably have some privacy.”

“Actually, that sounds really nice, because your dad always has snacks,” Wensleydale said with a wide smile. “Defending the space station has made me hungry.”

“And if your Pop is there he’ll let us do whatever we want,” Brian said excitedly.

Adam laughed and they headed toward Hogback Lane, cutting through the wood. They agreed to swing by their newly founded fort, to make sure it hadn’t been attacked before David and his gang had shown up at the park.

“Your Pop is so laid back,” Pepper said as they continued to walk. “Bet he’d let you get away with anything.”

“I dunno about that,” Adam said with a shrug. “You’ve never seen Pop when I’ve broken something.” Adam remembered the time he cracked his tablet’s screen after dropping it one too many times. Pop was still refusing to fix it.

“If I can keep the same car running for ninety years, you can keep the same game system working for a fraction of a year,” Pop told him. “And don’t ‘but magic’ me, you need to learn to take care of things regardless.” He’d tried that when he’d stained his favorite jacket and gotten sent to his room for it. Adam still didn’t think that was entirely fair, but he didn’t want to push it. Besides after another week or so and a little begging with puppy dog eyes he’d get it fixed. 

“I still think he’s the coolest person I know,” Brian said confidently. “He has to be.”

Adam laughed a little. “He cried during _Finding Nemo_ ,” Adam said rolling his eyes.

“No way,” Brian insisted.

“Actually, he did,” Wensleydale said. Wensley had been there when they’d watched it for the first time. “Though to be fair, my parents cried during _Up_.” 

They came across a little valley in the wood, more of a hollow really. Adam found this place a few weeks ago and they’d slowly building it up. Adam stopped to tie his shoe on one of the upper levels. Adam was still nervous about the wood pallet holding him up.

While most of the odds and ends around the fort had been discarded from each of the Them's houses, old patio furniture, an old ladder, rope, and a tarp. Not all of it had a tidy explanation.

Far too much had shown up after Adam thought it would be cool to have there. The pallets were just a few of dozens of objects that had shown up the day after they’d come up with this brilliant idea. It scared him. Adam wanted to rip it all down when he noticed what had happened. He shouldn’t let this happen.

Adam even had told Dad about it, hoping it was his angelic duty to destroy anything Adam accidentally created. Dad had merely sighed and said to tell him or Pop next time, they’d make sure he got what he wanted and then hopefully his powers wouldn’t activate. And well, Adam was grateful for that really, but his powers were still scaring him, which Pop and Dad didn’t always understand.

But as Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale all ran excitedly around the fort, having even more than they had at the water gun fight, Adam couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe being who he was wasn’t all bad.

Six Months ago, Christmas Eve

Aziraphale carried the mugs of hot cocoa out of the kitchen. Adam had the telly tuned to the Christmas Special with the murderous angels on the Titanic. Aziraphale wasn’t sure it was a pinnacle of storytelling, but he had to admit it kept his attention, in multiple ways.

Adam sat on the floor in front of the tree. “Why do we celebrate Christmas anyway?” He hung a Star Wars ornament gingerly on a lower branch. “Shouldn’t we celebrate Anti-Christmas?” Adam asked.

“You mean _your birthday,_ dear?” Aziraphale asked with a smirk. He sat the drinks down on the coffee table and then turned back toward the tree. “I suppose we could celebrate just that day, ignore Christmas all together-“

“No!” Adam said quickly, his face slightly pale. “No, I just meant you know, why does Pop celebrate Christmas?” Adam selected another ornament from the storage box. “I mean, shouldn’t he burst into flame? Or you know, shouldn’t I?”

“Capitalism,” Crowley said, his human form curled under an electric blanket. He’d received orders for a temptation earlier that day which required him to be outdoors for several hours. Due to Crowley’s reptilian nature and the bone chilling cold, he was incredibly lethargic and had promptly laid down on the sofa. Until this moment he had been out like a light. The fact that Crowley had to suffer through the discomfort was considered a bonus to his superiors in Hell. “Rampant capitalism, greed, and the fact that most of it is Pagan anyway. Other than that it’s just miserable. Not even the right time of year.” 

Aziraphale scoffed. They both knew damn well that Crowley was the one who had begun discussing Christmas presents for Adam by October at the latest every year since his first. “Of course dear,” Aziraphale replied, mock sweetness in every word. “If you need more warmth there’s a cocoa for you, too.”

Crowley adjusted the blanket around his shoulders and picked up his cocoa, the steam warming his face. “It’s true, Christmas is very pagan. Extremely pagan. The most.” Crowley sipped his cocoa. That spoke to how cold he had gotten.

“Is that your fault, Pop?” Adam asked, he hung a snake ornament from an upper branch. “The Paganism?”

“I wish,” Crowley mumbled. He took another long sip of his cocoa. “I could have coasted on that for at least a century, century and a half.”

“You know, Christmas is also about nice things like family, gratitude, love,” Aziraphale said as he began to wrap the fairly lights around the tree.

“Mistletoe,” Crowley said with a grin.

“Yuck, no thanks,” Adam said with a shiver.

Aziraphale sighed, a small smile crossing his face. He miracled a star on the top of the tree, putting the finishing touch on the tree.

“Isn’t it supposed to be an angel?” Adam said stepping back to admire their work. 

Aziraphale adjusted his bow tie nervously. “I’d feel like I was being watched by my boss.”

Adam laughed as he finally picked up his own cup of cocoa. “That would be weird.” Adam’s face lit up, “We could just put your face on it!”

“That gets my vote,” Crowley said, making room for Aziraphale on the sofa. Aziraphale settled onto the sofa and then Crowley rested his head in Aziraphale’s lap.

“I’ll get up,” Aziraphale threatened while he simultaneously rested his free hand on Crowley’s chest. He turned his attention back toward Adam. “I’m fine, really, let’s keep it as is, for now.”

Adam shot Crowley a conspiratorial look. He’d have to remember to check the star again in the morning.

After a few minutes of relative quiet, when the handsome actor on the telly was in the middle of some great speech, Adam piped up, “So why aren’t there any presents under the tree, or in the house?”

“How do you know they aren’t any in the house?” Crowley asked, his eyes narrowed.

“No reason,” Adam mumbled, taking a deep, long sip of his cocoa.

“Of course,” Aziraphale replied flatly. He glanced down at Crowley, who was looking far too smug. It had been the demon’s idea to hide the presents back in his flat in Mayfair.

In the early light of the Christmas morning Crowley pressed himself backward, against Aziraphale’s soft, warm body feeling utterly content. If Aziraphale asked, he was still cold (even though judging by the attention from Aziraphale’s effort he may not have to lie). “Angel,” he murmured, pleased. “What a lovely surprise.”

Aziraphale hummed contentedly, as Crowley allowed himself to be pulled even closer. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aziraphale replied perfectly innocent. “Just keeping you warm, my dear.” Aziraphale’s hands betrayed his words as they began to roam Crowley’s torso. “Hate for you to miss the holiday due to discorporation.”

“Uh huh,” Crowley turned around and began to kiss and nip at Aziraphale’s neck. “Of course.” He had slithered further up the angel’s body, his lips temptingly close, close enough that if Aziraphale wanted, he could close the gap. “Not thinking about the mistletoe that has miraculously appeared over the bed?”

Aziraphale glanced up and rolled his eyes. “Well now I am,” Aziraphale chuckled and shook his head. His hands moved to cup Crowley’s face gently. “Honestly, love.”

“Not even for Christmas?” Crowley asked, his voice softening. “Love?”

“You’re impossible,” Aziraphale whispered, finally kissing him. Hands roamed and dipped below clothes, gently grabbing and pressing with no particular sense of urgency, but instead a loving familiarity.

Crowley, trying to move things along, pulled Aziraphale on top of him. Aziraphale’s familiar and blessedly warm weight settled on top of him and Crowley gently began dragging Aziraphale's nightshirt up.

Suddenly the door to the bedroom banged open. “Dad! Pop! It’s Christma-Woah!” The door was suddenly slammed back shut. “Can’t you lock your door?” Adam shouted, scandalized. 

“Can’t you knock?” Crowley shouted with a groan, his head fell back against his pillow. Honestly, this wasn’t even the most compromising position Adam had caught them in.

“Uhh, Adam," Aziraphale said, removing himself between Crowley’s spread legs, effort seemingly no longer interested. “Why don’t you head downstairs and we’ll be there in just a tick.” Aziraphale helped Crowley into a sitting position.

“And don’t you dare open a thing until we’re down there!” Crowley shouted after him.

They heard Adam practically run down the stairs. “Perhaps this is Anti-Christmas after all,” Aziraphale said, his voice filled with amusement.

Crowley had to kiss him again for that.

Once their clothes were straightened and efforts calmed, the pair headed downstairs. Adam sat at the foot of the tree, practically vibrating with excitement. “Please can I open them, please?” he begged as soon as Crowley’s feet hit the carpet of the sitting room.

“I’m definitely getting coffee first,” Crowley said walking past the tree and into the kitchen. “And maybe Dad wants to have breakfast before we open presents? Hmm?” Crowley shot Aziraphale a grin as they silently agreed to prepare morning coffee and cocoa as slowly as possible.

“This is torture,” Adam said dramatically flopping back onto the floor.

“This is justice,” Crowley hissed. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale chided. “We don’t have to eat a full meal, but I do think some snacks would be nice.”

Adam let out another groan and sprawled dramatically on the floor until both Crowley and Aziraphale had joined him with plenty of drinks and snacks to get through present opening. 

“Now?” Adam asked as Crowley took the first sip of his coffee.

“Have at it,” Crowley said gesturing wildly at the mountain of presents under the tree.

“Wahoo!”

After Adam tore through all the presents under the tree, Crowley presented him with his last present he’d kept on himself, just in case.

Adam opened it carefully to reveal the latest iPhone. “Wow,” Adam said, near reverent, gently lifting the phone out of the box. “You guys didn’t have to get me this. You shouldn’t have.” He looked up at them with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a look, because Crowley felt Adam did need to have it, but they didn’t want to burden Adam any more than necessary. “It was no trouble,” Crowley replied, aiming for casual.

“In fact, it’ll be easier to keep track of you this way,” Aziraphale said sipping his cocoa. “No more shouting into the woods.” 

“Thank you, really, thank you, ” Adam said quietly. He set the phone down. “I got you guys presents, too.”

“What?”

“Adam, dear, you really shouldn’t have.”

It was too late, Adam had shot back up the stairs.

“You didn’t know anything about this?” Aziraphale asked, eyeing Crowley suspiciously.

“No, not at all,” Crowley said, echoing the suspicion.

Adam slowly made his way back down stairs. He handed them each a poorly wrapped package. “I got you both kind of the same thing, so you need to open them at the same time.”

While Aziraphale unwrapped his present gently, trying not to (further) tear the paper, Crowley tore into his. From the boxes they pulled out a set of mugs. Aziraphale’s was a small mug with angel wings that said "#1 Dad." Crowley’s mug looked the same, but was black and said "#1 Pop"

“I just, I just wanted to say thank you for being my parents,” Adam said, nervously picking at some fuzz on his slippers. “I know we’ve got a lot coming up, and I know you don’t want me to worry, but I just wanted to make sure you know- you know I love you guys, and I’m glad you adopted me. You know, just in case it all goes wrong.”

Crowley doesn’t know exactly who started the hug, but he knew that no matter what happened this had easily become his favorite Christmas.

Present Day

Adam walked dog through the village, Pop had told him not to let dog soil in the garden too much before running off to attend last minute infernal business. Too much Dog in the garden would, “Throw off years of fine tuning of the garden’s soil’s Ph balance” and he “just got the damned rose bush’s ego under control.”

Adam realized he was walking toward Jasmine cottage. He knew he shouldn’t. Both Dad and Pop would be upset if he purposely went that way.

But if Dog led him that way, well... There was really nothing he could do was there?

Anathema was shouting in her front yard and throwing things. He thought about turning around, and then he heard her start to cry.

“Anathema, Anathema are you alright?” Adam asked gently as he and Dog approached the gate to the cottage.

“Adam!” Anathema shouted, relief filling her voice. “Adam, oh thank god!” She ran over to the gate, tripping slightly over her skirt. She propped herself up on the gate, avoiding falling over completely, but only barely. “Adam, did I leave a book in your parents’ car last night?”

Adam frowned confused. “No,” he shook his head. “No, well, at least neither of them mentioned it.”

“D-Do you think they’d let me look in their car?” Anathema looked ready to cry more.

“I can look when they get back into town,” Adam said gently. “But, Pop took the car and ran down to London for some business.” Anathema’s tears bubbled over again and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, he offered it to her. “I promise, I’ll check as soon as I can,” Adam said with a small smile.

“You carry a handkerchief?” Anathema smiled and dabbed at her eyes.

“My dad won’t let me leave home without one,” Adam confessed with a laugh. “He’s a bit old fashioned that way.” 

“Well, thank you.” Anathema handed the handkerchief back to him with a small smile. “Would you like some lemonade?”

Adam knew he should say no, his parents would want him to say ‘No thank you’ (or in Pop’s case ‘Piss off’) and walk away. But he was thirsty, and it seemed like Anathema needed a friend. “Yes, thank you,” Adam said.

Adam felt a tingle as he walked in the door. He wasn’t sure if it was guilt or something else and tried to ignore the itch under his skin.

Dog whined and barked once Adam walked inside. He refused to come near the door. Adam turned as Anathema walked into the kitchen.

Adam knelt down and scratched Dog under his chin. “I know you didn’t want to come in here,” Adam whispered to the hellhound. “And I don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do, so if you wanna go wait in the garden, I won’t be cross.”

Dog nuzzled and licked Adam’s hand and as they turned to go into the cottage, Anathema was there with the lemonade.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Anathema said, awkwardly handing him a glass of lemonade then leading him further into the cottage. “But that was an incredibly sweet thing to say to your, to—“

“Dog.”

“Dog. Yes, that was an incredibly nice thing to say,” Anathema said. She took a sip of her lemonade. “Its” she trailed off. “It’s refreshing.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure!” Anathema was smiling wider so Adam hated to risk, but his curiosity was getting to the better of him.

“That book you lost, what was it?” Adam’s fingers drummed nervously on his glass.

“Oh, it was just-just a rare and important book that had been in my family for three hundred years,” Anathema confessed, staring sheepishly into her glass of lemonade.

Adam winced internally. If she _had_ left it in the car, Dad was sure to try to buy it off her hands if it was rare enough.

Before Adam could speak she continued, “The book it-It tells me what to do, it’s told my family what to do since it was written.” She shook her head minutely. “I don’t know what to do without it. I’m lost.”

“You do what a book tells you to?” Adam asked confused. “Is it like a Bible or a handbook?”

Anathema chuckled. “No, no, nothing like that.” She took a sip of her lemonade, seemingly thinking. “Its-Itsa book that contains the path my family has followed for generations. It has my destiny.” She frowns. “I-I hated growing up with all of it but now-“

“You feel like no matter what you do you can’t go against it,” Adam whispered. Anathema’s head shot up. “I get it,” he admitted.

“Adam, wh-what do you mean?” Anathema asked gently.

Adam pressed his lips together tightly. He had said too much. “I-I-I” He swallowed. “Well. I just know what its like for people to have-“ he trailed off searching for the right word, “Expectations of you. Expectations you don’t think you can meet. That you don’t _want_ to meet.”

“Yeah, me too,” Anathema said quietly.

“My dads think it’s a choice,” Adam said, trying to comfort both Anathema and himself. “That you get to choose your fate. It's not always an easy choice, but the people who matter will be there for you when you make it.”

“I hope they’re right.” Anathema’s eyes were dangerously watery again. “That’s pretty smart, of your dads. They seem really nice.”

“Well, they’re alright,” Adam grinned and shrugged. He looked down at the table and noticed some magazines. “Hey, what are these?” He asked, changing the subject. “They look fun.”

Crowley sighed contentedly, leaning down to plant a kiss on Aziraphale’s lips. He tried to catch his breath that he knew really, he didn’t need as he moved from straddling Aziraphale to curling up against him, their naked bodies pressed together. His arms wrapped around the angel tightly, clinging to him in the darkness.

Aziraphale turned in his arms to face him, his own arms wrapping around Crowley’s waist. They simply held each other for Satan only knows how long.

Crowley’s mind turned over and over unable to shake any of his anxieties. What if this had been the last time he and Aziraphale shagged? What if this was his last post sex cuddle? What if the next time he saw Adam was the last? What if something happened to Adam or Aziraphale or –satan forbid, both? What if what if what if?

“Darling, you accuse me of thinking too loud,” Aziraphale mumbled, gently resting his forehead against Crowley’s own. “It feels rather silly to ask you what’s troubling you, but I’m here.” Aziraphale’s face was so earnest, so sweet Crowley couldn’t help but kiss him on the lips before he ducked his head under Aziraphale’s chin.

“I just keep wondering,” Crowley admitted quietly. “I just keep wondering, did we do the right thing? Telling Adam the truth?”

“My dear, what else could we have done?” Aziraphale said with a sigh. “We never hid our natures.”

“Yeah, but should we have?” Crowley said, clinging to Aziraphale tighter. “I mean, we’d have done a terrible job of it but you know, we could have tried, could have spared him.”

“He’d be going into this blind.”

“They say ignorance is bliss,” Crowley’s voice was low and dark.

“Now, my dear,” Aziraphale hooked a finger under Crowley’s chin, forcing him to look Aziraphale in the eye. “That doesn’t sound like the wily serpent from the garden I know.”

Crowley sighed because of course Aziraphale was right. “I-I just-He’s so scared,” Crowley said quietly. “And if he’s scared anyway do you think-do you think it’d be better if he didn’t know?”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale admitted quietly. “But I-I have to take comfort in the fact that even though Adam is scared, he knows that we are more than capable of being at his side through this. And that has to be enough.” Aziraphale’s lips pursed into a thin, determined expression. “I know you can’t feel it anymore, but Adam truly does love us, loves his life. Surely that counts for something.”

Crowley clung to Aziraphale tighter. “You know, it’s dangerous for a demon to love an angel,” Crowley whispered in the darkness. “I could get into a lot of trouble if hell ever found out. But I do, please, you have to know, I love you.”

Aziraphale smiled gently. “I know my dear, and I love you too.”

They clung to each other in the darkness of their bedroom. Two prayers begging that Adam and the other survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh. Sorry this chapter took a minute, law school started back up and took more time out of my week. I hope I balanced out some of the angst and the softness alright. This fic is probably gonna get more angsty as we get to Doomsday, just a heads up. 
> 
> As always, Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Shout out to my BFF and Beta. 
> 
> I'm so so grateful for all the support you guys are giving me. You guys are truly amazing and I love you all.


	5. Got Your World In My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale, Crowley, and Adam all face different confrontations they hadn't prepared for. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up this chapter is angsty. There's implied/coded homophobia in the chapter if that bothers you. Its in the first Aziraphale section (Second section of the chapter) as a heads up.

Chapter 5 – Got your world in my Hand

In Crowley's opinion, it had all gone wrong rather quickly. Not that anybody asked Crowley’s opinion. Even if they had, he wasn’t exactly in a position to explain his opinion as he was currently on the run, so to speak. Aziraphale had wanted, no, needed to go to London again, to take care of some research and elsewise in the shop and well, that was fine. Crowley understood that. Logically. He didn’t exactly like it, being away from Tadfield but, that was fine, Aziraphale could go to London and be back and it would be fine. Fine.

Except no. No, of course that was not how it had gone.

Crowley sat agitated on the sofa in their sitting room in Tadfield. He couldn’t be still at all, but Satan below, he was trying to remain calm and be there for Adam. That was the right thing to do.

Adam had gone out with his friends earlier that morning. He seemed to also be unable to sit still and you know what? That was also fine. Adam needed to be normal for as long as they could do that. That’s why he had gotten a mobile for Christmas after all, so he could be located and kept safe as easily as possible despite his magic perception filter.

Crowley very nearly allowed himself to relax. Nearly.

The telly flickered and his movie seemed to change. _Shit_. He quickly slipped on his sunglasses and prepared for the worst.

“Crowley,” Duke Hastur’s voice ripped through the news he’d been half watching. Somehow Atlantis had risen from the sea. No need to worry Adam about that now. “What happened to the boy?”

Crowley forced himself to swallow before responding as cool as a cucumber, “What are you talking about?”

“Warlock!” Hastur shouted. “Armageddon! The horsemen aren’t here. He didn’t have the dog!”

Crowley shrugged exaggeratedly. “I dunno what to tell you Hastur, he had it last time I saw him,” Crowley lied. “Big old beast, solid black, named it Exterminator.”

“Don’t toy with me, Crowley.” Hastur was not remotely in the vicinity of fucking around, and his tone caused Crowley to (nearly) sit up straight. “We know Warlock isn’t our master’s son.”

“That is news to me,” Crowley replied. “He acts properly evil.” Crowley didn’t actually know much about Warlock personally, but what little he’d observed he seemed like a fairly average eleven year old, if a little naughty. But with an absent father like that well, kid was bound to act out, desperate for attention. Crowley slowly, imperceptibly, began typing on his phone that had been resting on his thigh. “Maybe the hospital made a mistake. It’s a shame we can’t check their records since it burned down.” (They’d discovered that fact quite by accident around the same time they’d moved to Tadfield. Aziraphale had thought it wise to conceal the records, but the job had been done for them). 

Hastur’s face contorted into a snarl. “I will find you, Crowley.” His eyes flicked around the room, confusion now mixing with his rage. “Where in heaven are you? What sin could you possibly be getting up to here?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you and anyone who gets in my way.”

Angels and Demons are often thought to have certain bird like behavior because of their wings. Crowley himself never thought much about it until this very moment, because his instincts began screaming that his nest was in danger and he needed to fly. Fly fast and as far away from the nest as possible, to keep it hidden, keep it safe. Draw the attention away from the thing you wanted to keep protected, his child and home. 

With one snap he turned off the telly. He stood grabbing his phone and ran for the garage. Once he sat in the Bentley he snapped again and found himself in London, his entire body shaking from exertion and fear for the first time in centuries.

Crowley assessed his surroundings, he was thankfully still in the Bentley, but it was now parked outside his flat in Mayfair. Perfect. He had a plan for that.

The Demon was in the flat faster than he’d ever gotten there before, the elevator might have miraculously gotten him there in record time.

First, Crowley had to clear the flat’s public spaces of any trace of Adam. They may not spend as much time in the flat anymore, but Adam still had some things there. Picking up one of Adam’s jackets caused Crowley’s heart to ache. He hated that he had left Adam alone in Tadfield, but if it meant his safety, and he could take care of Hastur and whoever else hell sent after him quickly, well, he may be back before Adam even missed him.

Once Adam’s things were hastily picked up and thrown into his old nursery, Crowley made the door into a wall. No one could find that room now.

And now for the Holy Water. His insurance was about to pay out.

Aziraphale hated the feeling of anxiety he’d had all day. Yes, he’d been able to calm Crowley the night before but calming himself was much more difficult. Especially when he was considering doing something that not only would Crowley not approve of, but that could jeopardize their family. But if it paid off…

Yes, yes he had needed to stop by his shop again before Armageddon properly started because he did actually want to check on a few more things. He’d brought Agnes Nutter’s book to do some cross referencing with other prophecy books. He had found out after the fact that there was a prophecy about him doing just that, of course.

If Aziraphale had been a bit more like Crowley he’d have thrown the book across the room for daring to tell him how to live his life. Instead, he walked out of the shop for a quick walk around the block. Physical exertion was one of the few ways he’d found over his millennia on earth to relieve some of the tightness in his chest, the tension in his shoulders.

Aziraphale contemplated his plan yet again. It was risky, incredibly risky, but he needed to believe, because it just might spare Adam.

As Aziraphale rounded the corner, he felt a chill in the air. He looked at the sky and noticed a storm was rolling in. He needed to get home.

“Aziraphale,” Micheal’s voice cut through his internal monologue. 

His head whipped around and he was confronted with Micheal, Uriel, and Sandalphon. Aziraphale may not have had need for a stomach, but he felt his drop to his feet nonetheless. He didn’t need a surprise inspection now, and why would they want that today of all days? His mind grasped at any reason they could be here.

“Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon, H-how can I help you?” Aziraphale asked nervously, he twisted his fingers together to keep from doing something more obvious.

“Concerns have been raised,” Uriel explained not too gently as the angel took a step toward him, crowding his personal space.

Aziraphale felt his stomach drop again. “C-concerns?”

“We’ve been looking at reports,” Sandalphon explained. The three angels closed in around him, backing him down the alley. He was so close to the shop. To safety. He could see it, just behind the other angels. It made it all the worse in his opinion. He felt his skin flush and it felt like a weight was settling in on his chest.

“The demon Crowley has hidden the Antichrist, he is not the boy Warlock, and no one knows where the Antichrist nor Crowley is,” Michael explained calmly. “You were tasked with watching him.”

“I- well-Yes, yes I was, but he-he is a crafty, wily adversary,” Aziraphale stammered out. “Cro-Crowley spent time with Warlock,” he lied. “Surely anyone would be fooled.”

“You had one job!” Sandalphon said with a punch to Aziraphale’s gut.

“Now, hold on!” Aziraphale said, his voice raising in pitch. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Uriel shoved him against the wall. “You haven’t done anything, period! Except for spreading your legs.”

“We’ve seen you two together,” Michael said coolly. “And you vanish from observation for long periods of time.” She folded her hands in front of herself. “And we’ve looked more closely at the earth observation files as well as examining your sins. We’ve noticed a pattern.”

“What on earth are you implying?” Aziraphale asked, his voice raising an octave in fear, but he hoped it came out more like outrage to their ears.

“You let yourself be tempted to sin by a demon,” Sandalphon said, his voice dripping with the utmost disgust. “Defile your sacred vessel.”

“Aziraphale,” Michael said, her voice unusually soft and gentle. “Crowley is using you, if you tell us where he may have hidden the boy, it would go a long way to helping clear your reputation.”

Aziraphale gaped at the angels in front of him. He knew other angels had a low opinion of him, that had been obvious since he had been given his assignment. But this was on another level. And it still _hurt_. “My- My reputation?! I assure you there’s nothing about my reputation that needs clearing.”

“Don’t think he actually cares for you,” Uriel sneered. “He’s lied and manipulated you. Do you think for one second he’d protect you? Demons don’t love. They can’t.”

“I-I” Aziraphale choked on his words.

“Whatever he’s said, whatever he’s promised, it’s all lies,” Micheal stated plainly.

“You’re a fool if you think he’d actually love you,” Sandalphon said, his lip curling in disgust.

Logically, he knew agreeing with the Angels would keep himself safe, and he needed to get out of this situation safely. But Aziraphale also knew, with even more certainty, that the Angels were wrong.

A weaker angel would have allowed doubt to invade his mind and eat away at him. And perhaps years ago, or under different circumstances Aziraphale may have been swayed. But just as Aziraphale believed in the almighty Herself, Aziraphale believed in Crowley. It was blasphemous. But Aziraphale’s faith was firm. Aziraphale _knew_ Crowley would not abandon him. He’d known that long before he’d ever have admitted it to himself, and even before Adam had entered the picture.

Luckily, or not, at that moment the trumpets sounded. Armageddon was upon them. The other angels returned to heaven in a flash of light, leaving Aziraphale alone, shaken up in the alley.

He straightened his bow tie, determined.

He was going to see the last part of his plan through and get home to Adam.

Come hell, heaven, or high water.

Adam and Dog walked aimlessly around the village. He physically could not sit still. He’d barely made it a block from home before he’d ran into Brian, and from there they’d gathered up everyone else and decided to walk around before settling at a picnic table outside the ice cream shop and passed out the magazines Anathema had loaned him.

“I dunno Adam,” Brian said flipping through one about Atlantis casually. “This stuff doesn’t seem realistic to me.”

“I dunno, I think it’s possible,” Adam said with a small shrug. He sucked on his cherry ice lolly. “I’ve heard of crazier things being true.”

“Like what?” Wensley asked.

“Like witches,” Pepper said confidently.

Brian gave her a flat look. “I don’t think that woman is a witch. I think she’s a hippie.”

“Actually, I was thinking she was a hipster myself,” Wensleydale said as he admired a picture of the kraken.

“A hipster hippie,” Brian said with a laugh.

Pepper hummed thoughtfully. “I guess she does give some of those hippie vibes,” Pepper admitted. “Mum said they used to do spells and stuff like that when she lived on the commune, but now she thinks a lot of the ceremonies and things are culturally appropriative and she’s stopped a lot of it.”

“What is the difference between a hippie and a witch anyway?” Wensley asked.

“We could go ask her!” Adam said cheerfully. “And get more magazines.”

“These magazines are still rubbish,” Brian said, carefully gathering them up nonetheless. “People can just make stuff up.”

“That’s true on the internet,” Adam said confidently. In fact he watched Pop do that all the time. Recently, Pop had let a few leaks that could not have _possibly_ been true find their way to the internet and had _Game of Thrones_ fans foaming at the mouth. Of course Pop was distraught when they turned out to be accurate, but Adam wasn’t allowed to talk about it anymore- Pop said it hurt too much and Dad definitely didn’t think it was age appropriate. “But magazines. Random people can’t say whatever they want in magazines.”

Brian shot him a skeptical look but they continued on to Jasmine cottage.

Aziraphale stood outside of his summoning circle dazed. He-He hadn’t thought it possible.

He’d wanted to speak to the Almighty. Oh he knew Crowley didn’t have much nice to say about Her, that seemed like it was rule #1 of demonic policy. Aziraphale now wondered if his problems existed with Her, or Her staff.

All he’d wanted was to speak to the Almighty in privacy. Now… Now he wasn’t sure if She’d have taken his call, much less kick Metatron off the line.

Aziraphale shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz of shock. He had to focus. If he couldn’t hear from the Almighty, then he’d prevent Armageddon with Crowley alone. He quickly walked over to his desk, he called Crowley from the shop’s phone quickly. Over the years the phone had figured out the fastest way to connect with him every time.

Crowley answered. “I told you’ve got the wrong number, taking care of a small problem,!” Crowley’s voice growled over the phone. “Call your dad.”

“What on earth are you talking about my dear boy?” Aziraphale asked incredulous. “This is my first time calling you.”

“Fuc-“ And the connection cut off. Aziraphale felt his throat tighten in fear. If Adam was calling Crowley there was likely trouble afoot. Aziraphale dialed Adam’s mobile. He thought he heard the shop’s front door bell jingle. But he didn’t have time for that.

“Dad!” Adam shouted over the phone. “Dad, I tried calling Pop, but I think he’s in trouble.”

“I think so, too,” Azirphale said as he used a free hand to unlock the desk’s drawer and take out the photo album. He placed it with the Agnes Nutter book and began to gather the rest of his things for the apocalypse. “I’ll go check on him and we’ll get to you as soon as we can.”

“Please, please come home soon,” Adam begged, his voice shaking. “I’m getting scared.”

He heard the boy take a deep breath and it was all Aziraphale could do not to panic himself. He could always be strong for Crowley and Adam. He was still working on himself. “I know my dear, I know, but we’ll be home soon, I promise.”

“YOU!”

“Fuck!” Aziraphale dropped the phone due to shock. He turned around. “Sgt. Shadwell, I thought I’d asked you to go to Tadfield and protect a boy from demonic activity?”

Crowley nearly, nearly had Hastur on the ropes. He’d dispatched of Ligur easily enough. While he was mildly disappointed the Holy Water hadn’t gotten both of them, a one on one fight was much easier for Crowley to handle. If he could just get him to buy this, just for a little bit longer he’d get out, get to Aziraphale, and then get to Adam, where he needed to be. 

Unfortunately, of course, that was when the phone rang. Crowley was content to let it go to voicemail as he continued to lie to Hastur’s face and try to think of a way out of this particular mess.

“This is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style.”

“Hey,” Adam’s voice rang through the flat. Crowley felt like he was transported back to when the ice bucket challenge was popular as a wave of cold panic washed over him. “Pop, please call me back I’m-I’m starting to get worried and I’ll try your mobile but-“

Crowley picked up the phone. “Sorry, I think you have the wrong number and I’m kinda dealing with a little bit of an emergency right now, I don’t think I’m your _dad_ ,” Crowley gritted into the phone. He hated brushing Adam off like this, especially when he sounded so terrified. Fuck, this was not in any of the plans. Maybe Adam had been right earlier this week when he’d said they hadn’t accounted for human variables. But he didn’t have time to think about it.

Crowley heard Adam take a deep, shaky breath. Crowley winced. Adam clearly had been crying but he replied. “Yeah, yeah of course. Be safe.” Crowley heard the phone click off.

Guilt rose in Crowley’s throat like the darkest bile, but he shoved it back down. He had the personification, or well, Demonification of bile in front of him to deal with. “Hastur, where were we?”

“You were about to die.”

“Doesn’t sound right to me,” Crowley replied trying to act cool. He shook his head in mock thought. “I think I was actually about to deal with-“

The phone rang again. Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically, then winced internally, hoping he just hadn’t rolled his eyes at Adam. But really, this phone was killing his dramatic victory over Hastur. He picked up the phone again. “I told you’ve got the wrong number, taking care of a small problem,” Crowley’s voice growled over the phone. “Call your dad.”

“What on earth are you talking about my dear boy?” Aziraphale’s voice came across the line, clear as day. Crowley shut his eyes in an attempt to tamp down on any further emotion that may come through. “This is my first time calling you.”

“Fuc-“ Hastur pushed down on the receiver, cutting off the call.

Crowley had to think fast to get out of this one.

Adam’s skin itched again as he stood in Anathema’s hallway. It was annoying and no matter where he itched nothing made it feel better, and it was beginning to sting. The itch seemed to move anytime he thought he’d scratched it. He huffed in frustration as Anathema began discussing taking the man whose car they had found crashed, up to her bedroom.

“You alright Adam?” Wensley asked quietly.

“ ‘M fine,” he mumbled, annoyed and embarrassed that he had been caught in a sulk. “Just stuff.”

Wensleydale considered him for a moment before going back downstairs where Anathema had promised them some tea and biscuits.

Adam shook his head trying to clear the frustration out of his system. He felt his phone buzz and he pulled it out. _Had 2 run errand at flat, brb_ Pop’s text read. Adam squeezed the phone tightly, fighting the urge to throw it at something. He wanted Pop _here_ . He wanted Dad _here_ . Why were they away _today_?

Adam went down the stairs in a careless manner. Once in the kitchen, Adam was immediately annoyed by all the noise in the kitchen. Everyone was talking and the sound of it was driving him nuts. He could hear everything and it was so loud. Everyone was talking over each other and there was this weird background noise that sounded like whispering. Could no one else hear that?

Adam went to stand in a quiet corner of the kitchen, hoping to block out the noise. He glanced up at the wall he was closest too, looking for a distraction. Anathema seemed to have one of those conspiracy theory boards he’d seen on telly programs Dad wouldn’t want him watching. Well Dad wasn’t here and he was going to look at the conspiracy board anyway.

It was clear to Adam that Anathema was trying to find him. He’d known that, of course, but he found it more than a bit funny that this was now the third time he’d been in her house and she still appeared to have no clue who he was or what he could do. That made Adam smirk. She seemed to at least have narrowed it down to the Hogback Lane area, and the wood, but nothing more specific than that. She had no idea, none at all, what kind of game she was playing.

Adam looked at another part of the board and saw a medieval drawing of a demon. No, not a demon, the Antichrist, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. _Him_. He wondered if he actually looked like that, his true form. He knew both Dad and Pop had true forms, not that they used them much if ever. It would make sense if he had a true form too, Adam supposed. The drawing had wings. Adam had always been jealous of Dad and Pop’s wings. They looked so cool and were always so soft. And they could fly, not that they did that often. Or ever, that Adam had seen. Why shouldn’t Adam have wings too? He wasn’t purely human. He should be able to fly.

There was a little voice now, rising about the too loud kitchen. Almost like it was inside of Adam. He could have wings. He could fly. He could make that happen with just a thought. Interesting.

He heard his friends say something about leaving and his head shot up. “I didn’t say you could leave,” Adam snapped. Wensley, Pepper, and Brian all stopped and looked at him funny.

Adam shouldered past them and walked out first. Finally he was rid of the weird itch under his skin. He took off for the fort in the wood. If his parents weren’t home that was fine. He wouldn’t be at home either. That would show them.

“Adam,” Brian started hesitantly. “We’re following you.”

“Good,” Adam replied, not bothering to look back at them. Everyone was leaving him. Leaving him alone. If his friends wouldn’t that was fine then. He’d have friends over and he could sense more friends on the way. Perfect.

“No Adam,” Pepper insisted. “We’re following you.”

“I heard you the first time,” Adam snapped. They were passing one of the last houses in the village before they got to the wood, he just wanted to get to the wood where he could sit and be alone with his friends.

“Actually Adam, I don’t think you know what’s happening,” Wensley said this time, his voice full of fear. Adam couldn’t help but smile. He was angry, and if that meant people feared him, all the better.

Dog let out a little whine of protest as well. That was not acceptable. Dog had to listen to him no matter what. Dog was _his_.

Adam stopped walking, his whole body radiating with anger. “What is the problem?” He turned around, his voice was louder than he expected it to be, and had an edge to it. He liked the way his voice had gotten low and gravelly, it was cool. When he turned Wensley, Brian and Pepper were behind him. Brian had one foot in the air he didn’t set down. Wensley and Pepper both had one foot in front of the other, Wensley sticking his arms out to keep balanced in the position.

“This isn’t funny, Adam,” Pepper said, her chin jutted out, defiant.

At that moment the noise from the telly at the nearby house caught the air out of an open window, “The continent of Atlantis, the nuclear power plants going, A kraken, the library of Alexandria returning, and oddly enough Queen playing out of every car radio in the world. Some have begun to speculate that this is the end times, others think it’s a large scale marketing campaign for an upcoming film. What do you think John?”

“Well-“

 _The end times_ . Atlantis. The Kraken. Adam felt like someone had just poured a bucket of Holy ice water on him. He’d read what was supposed to happen at the end of the world. He didn’t think his parents would have approved, but he wanted to know what he was supposed to do so he could _not_ do that. But… Had he done that anyway? It seemed like it. He felt his stomach simultaneously try to force its way up his throat and drop into his feet. What had he done?

“D-Did I make you guys follow me just now?” Adam asked, his voice small and quiet, but his normal voice. The voice in his head had begun to scream at him, causing his head to hurt, but he tried to push it away.

“Yeah,” Brian said a bit harshly. Brian’s lip was curled into a snarl, looking at Adam properly angry in… In the first time in their friendship. Brian never got really mad like this. Not at Adam. “Yeah, you did, I don’t know how, but you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Adam said with a shake of his head. He focused on letting them go. Brian stumbled forward a little bit and Wensley’s arms flailed as he tried to maintain his balance. Pepper still was glaring at him but she stayed upright.

“I’m sorry,” Adam repeated, his voice cracking in fear. Dog trotted over and nosed at Adam’s leg, trying to comfort him. But he could tell Dog was scared too from the way he held his ears and tail. “I-I- I didn’t mean. I-“

“You what?” Pepper asked, her arms crossing over her chest.

“I’m just sorry, okay?” Adam half shouted. He had begun to cry in spite of himself. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I can’t control it. I-I-“ Adam felt like he was gonna be sick. He’d made his friends, his best friends do something they didn’t want to do, he was causing the end of the world. Everything he never wanted to do. “I have to go home. Now.”

Adam didn’t wait for a reply, he took off running for home, terrified for the second time this week. Only this time his friends weren’t shouting after him. He couldn’t blame them. He couldn’t blame anyone if they hated him, feared him. 

Adam was at Hogback lane, he couldn’t tell if it was miraculously quick or not, but he hated it anyway. He was inside their home in a flash. He slammed the door behind him, Dog barely slipped in before the door shut. 

Adam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He took out his phone and without thinking dialed Pop’s flat. 

Without thinking Adam dialed Pop’s flat. He knew Pop was there, it seemed like the safest bet. 

The line rang and rang and rang. Finally the line picked up and Adam’s veins flooded with instant relief. 

“This is Anthony Crowley. You know what to do, do it with style,” the answering machine 

Adam’s chin wobbled. “Hey,” he said weakly. A new stream of tears fell from his eyes. _Damn it._ He rubbed them fiercely trying to keep himself calm. “Pop, please call me back I’m-I’m starting to get worried and I’ll try your mobile but-“

There was a click on the line and Pop’s voice came through clear, “Sorry, I think you have the wrong number and I’m kinda dealing with a little bit of an emergency right now, I don’t think I”m your _dad_.” 

Even in Adam’s terrified state he knew what Pop was implying. It’d happened a time or two before, a phone call while they were interacting with the forces of Heaven and Hell. He really wanted to talk to Pop, but he wasn’t going to put him in more danger either. 

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Adam said quietly, nodding his head even though he knew Pop couldn’t see him. He focused all of his fear on Pop now. “Be safe,” Adam added before hanging up quickly. 

Adam took a few deep breaths and then dialed his Dad’s shop. The line was busy. _Shit_. Hopefully it was just Dad calling Adam at the exact same time. 

Adam went into the kitchen and began to pace while he waited to call Dad again. Sure enough in a flash his phone lit up, _Dad’s shop_. 

Adam jammed his thumb clicking answer. “Dad!” he shouted into the phone. “Dad, I tried calling Pop, but I think he’s in trouble.” 

“I think so, too,” Dad replied. Adam felt relief flood his veins at Dad’s voice. “I’ll go check on him and we’ll get to you as soon as we can.”

Adam smiled, just barely. “Please, please come home soon, I’m getting scared,” he admitted quietly. He took a deep shaking breath, trying not to cry again. He walked into the Sitting room as he paced. 

“I know my dear, I know, but we’ll be home soon, I promise.”Dad sounded sure. So sure, Adam allowed himself to relax. He knew they’d come. He never believed in anything stronger than he did in his parents. 

“YOU!” A voice cut through the line. 

“Fuck! Sgt. Shadwell-” And the line went dead. Panic set in again. 

Tears streamed down Adam’s face now uncontrolled.He sank down onto the carpet of the sitting room shaking with each new sob. He pulled his knees to his chest and curled up on the floor. 

Adam felt the weight of the world crushing him as he lay on the floor crying. His friends hated him. His parents were in danger. And the world was ending because of him. For the first time in his life, Adam was completely alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end on a three pronged cliff hanger. I'd say I didn't mean to, but that would be a lie. This was part of my great plan. But don't worry! Chapter 6 is on it's way and with a long weekend I should be able to get a lot written. 
> 
> I love your support and your comments are always so supportive and I appreciate them all. I know don't respond because I'm socially awkward, but if you guys would like me to I can, let me know.


	6. I Have Inside Me Blood Of Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions bring change.

Chapter 6- I have inside me blood of Kings

The journey from Heaven to Earth without a body was not an experience Aziraphale would ever recommend. Zero stars. He felt dizzy and disoriented. If he had a body he’d even say nauseous. The whole of Earth seemed to swirl around him like a hurricane, bits and flashes seemed clear for a second and were gone just as quickly. 

Aziraphale’s only concerns when he touched the representation of Earth were to find Adam and Crowley. He had no idea how navigating earth without a body was going to work but he was determined to try. There was a lot of thought and hope and confusion. Mostly confusion.

Suddenly he felt like he was no longer moving, that had to be an improvement, right?

He heard quiet sobbing. Oh dear. Where was he? It would be his angelic duty to comfort whoever was in distress, but was he even considered an angel with duties anymore? He didn’t feel any different, but, who knows what would happen now that he’d fully turned his back on the other Angels. 

“Daddy?” Adam’s voice asked quietly, sounding unsure.

“Adam?” Azirphale asked, hope and relief flooding his voice. He’d done it. Azirphale couldn’t see anything, but he turned in the direction he thought Adam’s voice was. Turning made no sense when he couldn’t exactly see where he was or what he was doing, but he was trying. Aziraphale tried to calm himself, for Adam’s sake, no matter how relieved he was to know he was with Adam.

“You look like a ghost. W-What happened to you?” Adam asked, his voice wavering.

“I was discorporated before I could get to you or Cr-Pop.” Aziraphale sighed. “Couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

“Did I do that? Did I kill you?” Adam’s voice rose in panic. “I didn’t mean to I swear I didn’t mean-“

“Adam, Adam listen to me,” Azirphale said, talking over Adam. “It wasn’t your fault. I know whose fault it was and neither of those people are you. I promise.” Adam made a noise that sounded unsure. “I _was_ there, trust me,” Aziraphale clarified.

“But I’ve been doing other things on accident. I made Atlantis rise from the sea, and Restored the library of Alexandria, and-and the kraken!”

“The Library?” Aziraphale asked, his voice pitching up in excitement. He shook his head (or the metaphysical equivalent), that was not the point. No matter how excited he was. “Adam, please, listen to me. Take a deep breath.” He heard more than saw Adam take a deep, if shaky, breath, but that had to suffice. “Very good.”

“I’m scared, Dad,” Adam whispered quietly. Oh, how Aziraphale wished he was physically there to comfort Adam. This was not how he wanted to arrive back in Tadfield at all. On the other hand, Aziraphale could always put down his own worries to focus on those he loved.

“I know you are, dearest,” Aziraphale said with a small, sad smile. It seemed that Adam could see him, so he hoped Adam could see the smile. “I am too. But do you know what?”

“W-What?”

“Adam, I am going to find a body and do something no angel has done, and then I’m going to come home. And then we’re going to save the world. I swear it.” Aziraphale felt like a fire had been lit inside of him. “There’s a prophecy book I found. Agnes Nutter, it was in my shop. If you speak to your Pop, let him know. It just might save us all.”

“You really believe that?”

“I believe in _us_ , Adam. I’ll meet you at Tadfield Airbase.” And with that Aziraphale was once again flying through the ether.

Crowley sat up, his face dripping with regular water. There was a dark part of him wishing it was Holy Water if this was going to be the way he went. The way Aziraphale went.

Crowley shook his head. No, he had to snap out of this. He had to get out of here.

He looked around, and saw the Agnes Nutter book. Aziraphale had put so much faith into it, for Adam’s sake. Crowley’s hands reached out and grabbed the book. When he lifted it he saw another book.

Smoke shifted and he could make out the cover clearly. On the cover was a picture of the three of them from their holiday last summer to Disney World. He grabbed that book too.

He vaguely stumbled back out to the Bentley. Once he’d collapsed in the front seat he hid himself from human notice. He needed a moment. Possibly several moments. 

Crowley looked down at the books in his lap. He tossed the Agnes Nutter book into the passenger seat without a thought, examining the album in his hands carefully.

“Angel,” Crowley let out a pitiful whimper. “Oh, Angel, who even prints pictures anymore?” Crowley flipped open the book. In perfect chronological order were pictures of Adam, from his earliest days with them through the present. Crowley flipped a page and found one of Aziraphale and Adam from his first birthday. Adam was holding Aziraphale’s hand as he’d begun some of his first hesitant steps toward the camera and Crowley. 

He remembered it like it was yesterday. And in the grand scheme it really was. Just ten years ago. “It’s only been a decade!” He shouted at god, Satan, whoever the fuck would listen. “It’s not fair!” He turned his eye skyward. “Your son was an adult, he’d lived his life, was raised by two loving parents until he was off on his own. Why can’t mine? Is that how you play it? ‘Fuck you, got mine’? Isn’t that just how you are with all children in the Great Plan?” He shouted angrily. Of course, God said nothing back to him. Not that he was truly expecting a reply. “Of course not, coward.” He sneered. “And what about Aziraphale, huh? He didn’t deserve that. He’s one of your best, and you just let. You let-“ 

It may have been considered undemonic but Crowley cried. Silent, angry tears streamed down his face as his hands squeezed the heaven out of the Bentley’s steering wheel. But considering he wasn’t exactly Hell’s number one demon currently, he didn’t much care if any creature of heaven or hell found him crying. Because he’d show them the same mercy they must have shown his Angel. None at all.

“Okay,” Crowley mumbled to himself. “Okay, okay.” He scrubbed a free hand down his face. “Okay, Aziraphale is-“ He swallowed. “Aziraphale is.” Crowley shook his head. “Adam is the top priority.” Crowley nodded. “Adam’s the priority. That’s what Aziraphale would want anyway.” Crowley thought if he could convince himself that he’d never been to the shop at all, then he’d get himself to a functioning state. “I need to get to Adam.” He growled out. “I will get to Adam.” He turned the key and the engine roared to life. Crowley’s accelerator foot hit the floor.

“Call Adam,” he told his phone.

The line didn’t even finish its first ring. “Papa!” Adam shouted down the line. “Papa, where are you?”

“I’m on my way Adam, I promise,” Crowley told him as he sped his way through London. Crowley tried to push aside the heartache that Adam using a name for him that he hadn’t used for years. Focus on getting to him. Be strong for him.

“I know,” Adam replied. “I know you and Dad wouldn’t just leave me.”

Crowley winced. He probably shouldn’t say anything until this was all over, but lying to Adam wasn’t his style. “Adam, listen, your Dad-he-he didn’t make it. Something happened. The bookshop burned down. I can’t feel-He’s not-“ 

“No, no! Dad was just discorporated.”

Crowley actually blinked at that and his body’s heart did a funny little thing that made it feel like he’d swallowed a bird whole. “What?”

“He said he’d meet me at Tadfield Airbase.”

“What?!”

“Dad was discorporated, he came to me without a body, he’s gonna try and possess someone so he can get here.”

“ _What?!”_

“Dad’s okay, he’s gonna be okay.” Crowley released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. A genuine laugh of relief escaped his mouth.

“Possess someone?” Crowley asked, his smile wide. “Has he lost his mind?”

“Maybe,” Adam admitted, Crowley could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe, but he was sure it would work because of some book?”

Crowley’s jaw dropped. “Agnes Nutter.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s the one!” Adam let out a nervous giggle of his own.

“I grabbed it,” Crowley said not quite believing his own luck. No, no it wasn’t luck. Aziraphale had meant for it to get to him. He’d planned for it. He loved that mad angel so much. “I’ve got it in the car right now.” 

“Dad says it’s important.”

“He did steal it from that witch,” Crowley said with a mumble. He was hitting traffic on the way out, cursing himself.

“Anathema noticed,” Adam pointed out.

“Adam,” Crowley said, his voice suddenly stern. “Have you been talking to the witch?”

“I wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been throwing a fit in her front garden about a missing book that contains her destiny,” Adam said with a huff.

At that moment, Crowley saw a wall of flame sprout in the distance. It seemed to encircle all of London. “The M-25 is on fire,” Crowley said mostly to himself, not quite believing his eyes. “Oh fuck.”

The other side of the phone went eerily silent. Had something happened to Adam? 

“Adam,” Crowley began, trying not to let panic seep into his voice. “Adam you still there?”

“Is that my fault?” Adam whispered, his voice shaky. “Did I do that?”

Crowley sighed and shook his head. “No, no, no. Designing it in the shape of a dark sigil was my _brilliant_ idea, not yours. You can blame me.” Crowley pulled out around the traffic, determined to find a way through. 

“Oh,” Adam said softly. “I thought that was a joke. You both always like to make jokes about every bad thing being your fault.”

“He is a joke,” Hastur’s voice cut in before Crowley could say anything. He disconnected the line with a thought and whipped his head to the passenger side of the car. Aziraphale’s side.

“Crowley, that’s twice now I’ve caught you talking to a young boy,” Hastur snarled and pulled Crowley close to him by his scarf. “So tell me, where are you hiding our Master’s son?”

Crowley hissed hatefully at Hastur. Try saying that three times fast.

“You can’t hide him forever.” Hastur’s grip tightened the scarf, making Crowley grateful he didn’t need to breathe.

“No, I can’t,” Crowley agreed, glancing out of the corner of his eye out the windscreen. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll _ever_ let _you_ find him.” Crowley slammed on the accelerator, headed straight for the wall of flame that was the M-25.

Adam sat stock still on the floor. Things had gotten better he supposed, better than it had been half an hour ago, but still not great. Dad didn’t have a body and Pop had a demon in the car who didn’t seem to like him. Adam’s knees were drawn up to his chest and he was trying desperately not to think about anything, or feel anything, or really do much of anything at all besides breathe and blink. Trying not to think about anything though reminded him of that movie Pop watched with him that time, about dreams and he wasn’t supposed to tell Dad that Pop let him watch it, and there was a line about “Don’t think about pink elephants.” And now all Adam could think about was pink elephants and Leonardo DiCaprio. Adam winced. He hoped he didn’t just fill Leonado DiCaprio’s home full of pink elephants. (He had.)

There was a sudden pounding on the back door. Adam practically jumped out of his skin.

“Adam?” he heard Wensleydale’s voice pierce the silence. Dog trotted over to the door and sat patiently.

Adam didn’t say anything, because clearly this was a hallucination or he had accidentally used his powers again.

There was more pounding on the door. “Adam, it’s us open up,” Brian shouted.

Dog scratched at the door insistently.

“Go away, please,” Adam insisted. He focused on not forcing them away, but trying not to force them to do anything. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“That’s why we’re here, you idiot!” Pepper shouted. Suddenly the back door burst open and Pepper stumbled into the home. Dog’s tail began to wag and he barked excitedly.

“You broke his door!” Wensley shouted running his fingers through his hair. “His dads are gonna be so mad.”

“We’re checking on Adam, they’ll forgive us,” Brian said with a firm nod. “And if they don’t, we’ll blame it on the weather.” And Brian was right. Outside there was a terrible storm, there was rain, wind, thunderbolts and lightning. Adam had never seen anything like it. Had his friends braved this terrible storm to get to him? After what he had done?

Adam had backed toward the stairs. “You should leave. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, we are,” Pepper said closing the door, or trying to. She held it closed with her shoulder while Wensley went into the kitchen and retrieved a chair. They wedged it under the handle, keeping the door shut.

“Why?” Adam asked backing into the wall, trying to stay as far away from his friends as possible. “You were all angry with me. And I get it. What I did was _wrong_.”

“Because we’re worried about you,” Wensley said as if it was obvious.

“Yeah, all of a sudden you have powers you didn’t know you had or were using?” Brian said, shaking his head. “We talked about it after you left and we figured that’d be pretty scary.”

“We were mad for a bit,” Pepper said with a small nod. “But you did say you were sorry, and you still seem very sorry, so we wanted to forgive you.”

“And then we decided we needed to tell you, we forgave you,” Brian explained. “Because you seemed really upset.”

“Actually we also thought you might be a superhero or something and we thought it would be really cool to be friends with a superhero,” Wensley admitted with a shy smile as he wiped rain water off his glasses.

“I-I’m not a superhero,” Adam said with a small shake of his head. His back was fully pressed against the wall. “I’m basically the opposite of a superhero.”

The three completely human members of the Them all shared confused looks. “What do you mean?” Wensley asked. He didn’t seem afraid, just confused.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Try us,” Pepper insisted, taking a step forward.

“Trust us,” Brian said, his voice was gentle.

Adam’s eyes flicked between his friends. The voice in his head was still whispering evil things but he tried to tamp it down. It wanted to send all his friends away, so part of Adam knew he should do the opposite of that. He closed his eyes and thought of his parents. What would they do?

Adam’s eyes opened. Certain. “Alright, I’ll tell you, but first, let me get you all some cocoa.”

Once everyone was settled on the floor of the sitting room in a circle, with fresh mugs of cocoa, Adam took a deep breath. Dog rested his chin on Adam’s thigh. They were quiet, waiting for an explanation.

Adam looked around the circle. “If anyone wants to leave before I tell you, go ahead, I won’t be cross, I promise.” No one moved, except for Brian to take a sip of his cocoa. “Really,” Adam insisted. “It’s a lot, and I’ve been dealing with it basically my whole life.”

“If you can handle it, we can handle it,” Pepper said confidently. Wensley and Brian nodded in agreement.

“Alright.” Adam took a deep breath and nodded to himself. He could do this, his parents had told him uncomfortable truths time and time again because they believed in knowledge and choice, and Adam did too.

“So, you know how my parents aren’t exactly normal,” Adam began hesitantly.

“Yeah, they’re gay, we’ve known for years,” Pepper said with a shrug.

“We’re all quite aware of that, Adam,” Wensley said adding more marshmallows to his cocoa. “It’s never bothered us.” 

Adam pressed his eyes shut and pinched his nose like he’d seen Pop do hundreds of times. “There’s more to it than that.” Adam took a sip of his own cocoa, trying to gather his thoughts. His parents had it easy, he thought darkly, Adam had known, deep down, his parents were not normal humans before he had the words to put to it, so really, all they had to do was just fill in the gaps in his knowledge. Adam was having to start from square one. And he was working against a time limit. It wasn’t fair.

“D-Do you believe in Angels? Demons?” Adam asked quietly.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Pepper asked. 

“Because that’s what they are,” Adam said quietly.

“What?” Peppers face frowned with confusion. Brian and Wensley weren’t much better. 

“Dad’s an angel. And Pop’s a demon.” There was a beat of silence so Adam continued, not daring to look up. “The pictures on the wall, the ones of great grandparents and things?” He gestured to the stairs. “They’re really just Dad and Pop through the centuries.”

“Bu-But then they’d have to be hundreds of years old,” Brian said, confused. “Some of those pictures are older than my gran.” 

“Well, actually, if they are an angel and a demon, they might be immortal,” Wensleydale countered.

“Oh, come off it,” Brian said with a shake of his head.

Adam looked up cautiously. “Wensley’s right. They’ve been on Earth since it began.” He took a deep breath. “Dad was one of the Angels assigned to patrol the walls of the Garden of Eden. Pop was the demon who tempted Eve.”

“You mean liberated Eve from oppression?” Pepper asked with a smirk.

“That’s certainly how Pop sees it,” Adam said with a grin and a sip of his cocoa. “But it's best not to mention that around Dad, unless he’s had a bottle or four of wine.”

They were all quiet for a moment.

“You’re serious about this aren’t you?” Wensley asked quietly. “This isn’t pretend and it’s not a joke?”

“No, its not a joke,” Adam said softly. “Though sometimes I wish it was.” A thought occurred to Adam. “Hold on.” Adam ran upstairs and went into his room. In the locked drawer in his desk and pulled out a small wooden box. He ran back downstairs and sat down. “Here, these belong to my parents. Their wings shed them and I’ve kept a few.” He opened the box and pulled out a small bundle of black and white feathers. “You can kinda feel magic coming off of them.” 

Adam passed them around the circle. “They’re bigger than any birds that live around here,” Wensley said as he took hold of them. “Woah. It’s like static almost. A little tingly but not bad.” 

“Let me try!” Pepper said taking a hold of them. She giggled. “That’s so weird.” 

“You know, your Pop being a demon actually makes sense in a way,” Brian said with a nod as he took the feathers from Pepper. Adam, Pepper, and Wensley all looked at Brian like he’d grown a second head. “I mean, he’s so cool, he’d just have to be a little bit magic, right?”

“Please don’t tell him he’s cool, it’ll go to his head,” Adam said with a small laugh, taking the bundle back and slipping it into his pocket for comfort.

“But the black and red and sleek looks, his devil may care attitude,” Brian said, jokingly slicking his hair back. “Ugh, It all makes sense now.”

Wensleydale laughed, “Yeah, and your dad being an angel, that’s probably why he’s such a good cook, and why he is always so nice to all of us.”

“Is that why you’re so good at history?” Pepper asked.

“No,” Adam shook his head. “No, I mean, they know a lot about history, real history, and sometimes that doesn’t mix well with what the Teachers want us to know so I have to study the textbook extra hard.” 

“Like what?”

“Lots of stuff, like-“ Adam trailed off thinking as a hundred examples sprung to mind. “Like how Pop palled around with Leonardo DaVinci, and maybe more, but the teachers want us to think he just painted pretty religious stuff.”

Pepper shook her head in sympathy. “Erasing homosexual identities and focusing on Christianity.” Pepper froze. “Wait, does all this mean that mean the bible is true?”

Adam’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, basically.”

“Holy shit,” Brian muttered under his breath. “My mum’s never gonna let me skip church again if she finds out.” 

“There’s more.” Adam wished he had more cocoa, but he was on a roll and didn’t want to stop now. “So you know, like the Devil and stuff?”

“I assume your Pop works for him?” Wensley asked trying not to sound too afraid, which Adam appreciated. 

Adam nodded. Adam then decided he needed to rip off the band aid and get this over with. “And I’m the Antichrist.”

“What?”

“No way!”

“Shut the front door.”

“I wish I wasn’t, but I am, and that’s why I could make you walk when you didn’t want to, and that’s why it’s been storming today, and that’s why Atlantis actually exists now,” Adam said looking at each of them, hoping the understood but trying not to force them to accept it. He wanted them to choose.

“Adam,” Brian said, looking at him completely dumbfounded. “What. The. Hell.”

“Brian, that could be offensive to him,” Pepper said, smacking him lightly with her hand.

Adam shook his head. “Not really. It’s fine. I’ve heard both Pop and Dad say far worse.”

“So, if you’re the antichrist,” Wenseley asked. “Don’t you only appear at the end of the world?”

Adam nodded again. “But I think we can save it. I think I know what to do, but I was hoping, that is, if you wanted, you’d come with me to save the world?”

Pepper, Brian, and Wensley all traded looks before they simultaneously shoved their right hands together grinning. “We’re in.” Adam placed his hands on top of theirs, feeling calmer than he had all week. Out of the corner of his eye Adam realized it had stopped raining.

“Thanks,” Adam said. “Now, here’s what we need to do.”

The Them were led to a small closet inside the front door. “Dad felt silly making these, and he thought we were joking with him until we showed him a Youtube video, but they’re the best tactical defense against demons we have.”

“Why would the demons be attacking us?” Brian asked. “Shouldn’t they serve you or something?” 

“Because they want to end the world to start the war of Heaven and Hell.” Adam explained. “The angels do too. We obviously don’t want the world to end so they’ll probably get pretty angry about it.” 

“Squirt guns?” Wensley asked skeptically.

“Filled with Holy Water.” Adam said with a grin. “It’s guaranteed to completely destroy a demon, so be careful where you aim.” 

Pepper grinned. “Wicked.”

“What do we do for Angels?” Wensley asked quietly.

“Hope I can make Hell fire, or hope Pop’s there to do it for us.” Adam said with a shrug. “Otherwise just pray they don’t show up.” 

“Great.” Brian rolled his eyes. “Just great.” 

Aziraphale dismounted Madame Tracey’s scooter none to gracefully. Crowley and Adam would never believe he willingly drove a contraption like that. And now he’d get to tell them about it. 

“Aww that’s sweet,” Madame Tracey said. “End of the world and all you can think about is impressing your husband and your son.” 

“We’re not married, technically,” Aziraphale pointed out, trying to focus on the task at hand, saving Adam and the world. 

“Well, don’t you think you should fix that, for your son’s sake?” Madame Tracey pointed out, with a cheeky grin Aziraphale by nature of this arrangement felt rather than saw. “Don’t want him coming from a broken home.” Aziraphale’s mind immediately flashed to every single time Adam had found Crowley and himself in compromising positions. “Or not,” she added with a laugh. 

“Let’s just focus on trying to get into this airbase.” Aziraphale insisted on trying to change the subject. 

“Of course, dearie,” Madame Tracey said in a way he knew was condescending. “After all these years you’re still mad for him,” Tracey said with a knowing smile. “It’s nice.”

They walked closer to the gate. Sgt. Shadwell was threatening the gate officer. Madame Tracey sighed. “His hearts in the right place,” she said with a shy smile. Aziraphale could sense her love for him. “God help me.” 

“I understand, try falling in love with a demon,” Aziraphale sighed in commiseration. 

“Oh, no, I’m alright.” 

Aziraphale heard a barking of a dog. No, not just a dog. _Dog_. Aziraphale whipped around and saw Adam and his friends riding up on their bicycles. Brian had a Cricket Bat strapped to his back, an old army helmet on, and had black and green paint on his face approximating camouflage. Wensleydale had a tie wrapped around his head like a stylized headband and blackpaint smeared under his eyes like a footballer. Pepper Also had stripes painted under her eyes but they were red. Each of the children carried the squirt guns that Aziraphale had prepared. He’d felt so foolish at the time, filling the guns with holy water, but, given the encounter he had with the archangels in the alley earlier, he was starting to see their value. 

Adam was at the front of the pack, no paint on his face, but he looked determined. Aziraphale could feel the raw power radiating off of Adam now in a way that it never had before, but he wasn’t afraid, because he could sense Adam’s love as well. He rode his bike up to the gate, stopping himself just short of their group. “Sgt. Shadwell? What are you doing here?” Adam asked confused. How did Adam know Sgt. Shadwell? He’d never introduced them. 

“Adam,” Aziraphale called out. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if his voice would sound like his own or Madame Tracey but he hoped Adam would realize what had happened. 

Adam’s head whipped around, staring at him intently. His eyes narrowed. “Dad?” he asked hesitantly. 

Aziraphale took a few steps forward, the heels making a satisfying click on the road. “Yes, Adam.” 

“You found a body.” Relief flooded Adam’s voice. He dismounted his bicycle carefully. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “I did.” 

“You make a really lovely woman Mr. Fell,” Wensley said. “Or Should I say Ms?” He looked to Pepper for guidance. 

“That’s their choice,” Pepper said, checking on her squirt gun again. 

Adam looked ready to say something when there was suddenly the achingly familiar sound of “Best of Queen” being blasted at the highest volume in the distance. Rounding the corner was the Bentley, and it was on fire. 

While Aziraphale’s thoughts caught up to _that_ image, Crowley was climbing out of the car carrying the books he had set aside, looking like a hero out of a tawdry novel Aziraphale would never admit to reading, all rugged and dirty and heroic. Aziraphale let out a sound that was a mix between a sigh, a whimper and Crowley’s name. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed, like he wasn’t quite believing his own senses either. He began striding purposefully toward their group and he licked his lips in a way Aziraphale was all too familiar with. 

Apparently, Adam was familiar with Aziraphale being on the receiving end of that look as well because he suddenly said, “I think you should have your own body now.” 

Aziraphale felt a strange tingle start in Madame Tracey’s heart and radiate outwards. He felt his essence which had been crammed in one far too small of a body and then shared was sifted out and pulled back into his own form, just as he had always known it. 

Before Azriaphale could fully register what had just happened Crowley was there in his personal space. Aziraphale felt himself dipped dramatically toward the ground, one hand of Crowley’s cradling his head gently, the other supporting his waist. .Crowley’s kisses always tipped toward the desperate end of the scales but This kiss felt like Crowley had been drowning and Aziraphale was his only salvation. Aziraphale clung to him in return, glad to have him here after everything. There were voices and noises but they stole just this moment. Until-

“If you don’t all leave right now I will shoot!” The completely overwhelmed officer at the gate shouted. Aziraphale broke the kiss and looked at the guard, he had his gun pointed directly at Adam. WIthout thinking Azriraphale freed one of his hands from Crowley’s hair and snapped. The guard was gone. Adam’s friends began to cheer with shouts of “Whoa!”’s and “Go Mr. Fell” and ''Awesome” being thrown around casually. 

“I really hope you sent him somewhere not too terrible, Dad,” Adam said, his voice a tinge embarrassed and his cheeks pink. “He was just doing his job.” 

Aziraphale and Crowley only semi reluctantly straightened and untangled themselves out from their embrace. “I honestly have no idea where he went,” Aziraphale admitted. “And he was pointing a gun at you, my dear.”

“I _am_ the antichrist,” Adam said with a shrug as he helped Dog out of the basket on his bicycle. 

“You’re eleven and three days,” Crowley countered taking Aziraphale’s hand before striding up to Adam. “Any soldier who points guns at children, _especially_ on orders, doesn’t deserve nice.” 

Adam was suddenly between the two holding them both. “I-I thought I’d never see either you again,” Adam whispered softly. 

“We’d never let that happen,” Crowley said confidently. “I mean, just look at your dad, he _possessed_ someone for heaven’s sake.” Crowley made a light gagging sound. “Can’t believe I said that.” Adam giggled. 

“Yes, and Pop here well, the car’s on fire,” Aziraphale said with a small shake of his head. “I’m not sure if I want to know the story behind that or not.” He licked his lips. “You taste like soot, by the way.” 

“More than usual?” Crowley asked with a grin. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth to reply when there was an explosion. On instinct Aziraphale put himself between Adam and the explosion before he truly even registered where the explosion came from and what had exploded. 

Slowly Aziraphale’s senses caught up. The Bentley had finally fully succumbed to the flames and given up the ghost. 

  


Crowley fell to his knees. Ninety years. Ninety years he’d had that car. So many memories in that car. Aziraphale grabbing him in a panic as he drove too fast. Adam giggling in the back seat as Crowley sang along poorly to Queen. The Prank War of 2017. Gone in an instant. 

Well, alright, maybe not an instant, he had driven it through a wall of flame and it had only survived _that_ because they both knew it had to get them to the airbase. To Adam and Aziraphale. It had done just that. Really, he knew he couldn’t ask much more of it, but he was still sad to see it go. 

Aziraphale rested a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, giving him a sympathetic squeeze. 

“I’m sorry, Pop,” Adam whispered quietly. “I know it meant a lot to you.” 

Crowley’s eyes flicked over to some movement he’d seen in the corner of his eye. The Them had all bowed their heads in mourning, Brian had even removed his helmet and held it over his heart. 

He placed his free hand over Aziraphale’s and returned the affectionate squeeze. “Thanks.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Enough of that though, we have a world to save, don’t we?” Crowley stood up and looked over at Aziraphale. “What’s the plan?” 

“I know what to do,” Adam said. 

Both Aziraphale and Crowley had turned to Adam. “You’re sure?” Crowley asked gently. 

“Yeah, we can do this,” Adam said with a nod. “All of us. Together.” 

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look and a small nod, and then Aziraphale spoke, “Lead the way.” 

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and their rag tag group of children, celestial beings, a sex worker, and a sergeant in the witch finder army stepped into the airbase and toward armageddon. 

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter makes up for the angst of last chapter. I certainly felt happier writing it. 
> 
> Comments have been so supportive and loving and I love each and everyone of them. 
> 
> Feel free to be my friend on tumblr and twitter @Yarsian.


	7. I'm Here for Your Love and I Make My Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horsmen, and Angels, And Demons, oh my.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little violence in it. A mention of blood. It's all in the second to last section of the fic. Adam's last POV section.

Chapter 7- I’m here for your love and I make my stand

It was eerie, watching Adam be so completely calm during the entire showdown with the four horsemen. He had been right, he knew exactly what to do. His friends had dispatched Pollution, Famine, and War seem like child’s play. It was literally child’s play! They’d used Aziraphale’s flaming sword for fuck’s sake. The very sword he’d given to humanity six thousand years ago, Adam had just used, to defend humanity. What. The. Fuck. 

Crowley was still unwary though. It felt too easy. Far too easy. The witch had shown up and he’d been ready to go into a protective mode. However, with her being Adam’s friend too now, apparently, to help save the world she’d fucked the  _ one _ person in the  _ entire _ world who could shut down the threat of Nuclear Disaster faster than you can say Doctor Strangelove. And she was surprisingly chill when he gave the book back in less than perfect condition. 

It was working! 

Which is when, of course, there is when there was a blinding flash of lightning and a quaking from the ground. 

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand tighter when Gabriel and Be’elzebub manifested. Perhaps if he had any sense of self preservation, he’d have let it go. That, of course, is not what he did. 

Aziraphale tightened his hold on Crowley’s hand, reached down, and picked up his sword, gripping it tightly. 

“Did you just fucking openly threaten our bosses with your sword?” Crowley hissed. 

“I grabbed something to defend Adam’s life and yours,” Aziraphale whispered back. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, if things go south, you take him and you run as fast and as far as you can.” 

“Would you two please shut the fuck up?” Be’elzebub shouted. She was staring directly at them. 

“Uhh- hello!” Aziraphale said with a nervous smile. “Lord Be’elzebub, Gabriel.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, also completely unamused. Aziraphale could hear Crowley’s low hiss at that. Gabriel looked around the airbase furious. “Would someone please explain what just happened here? Why hasn’t armageddon begun?” 

“I didn’t want it to,” Adam said. “Simple as that.” Aziraphale glanced at Crowley in abject horror. Adam may be the antichrist and have control over reality at present moment, but mouthing off to those two is incredibly stupid behavior. That sort of bravery was reserved for the adults in the room, not the eleven year old. 

“The Adults are talking!” Gabriel snapped at Adam. Broken clocks. “So zip it you little shit.” Or not. Gabriel strode over to them. He glanced down at their joined hands in disgust. “You two cannot even begin to explain  _ that _ .” He gestured to their linked hands like they were holding a rotting animal carcass. “So please, try to explain the rest of this.” 

“It’s like Adam said, he didn’t want the world to end, so it didn’t,” Aziraphale said, drawing confidence from having Crowley’s support. 

The glare Crowley shot him suggested he may be drawing too much support. 

Be’elzebub had walked over to Adam, and from the way Crowley’s body tensed Aziraphale was grateful to have picked up his sword. “Adam, was it?” She asked all faux sweetness. One needn’t have raised Adam to see he could see right through the facade. “Come on if you go along with this you get to rule the world. You can do whatever you want. Anything at all.” 

“Could they both survive?” Adam said looking to Crowley and himself. “It’s just, I’m quite fond of both of them, and I can’t imagine a world without them. Together.” Crowley and Aziraphale shared another pained look. Why was Adam being so recklessly brave? Was this because of the whole Gryffindor thing? 

“You broke the antichrist!” Be’elzebub shouted turning back toward Crowley and Aziraphale. “How is that possible?” 

Crowley shrugged. “No idea.” He shook his head. “Maybe that’s the problem with putting a _ literal  _ child in charge?” Aziraphale shot him a pained look as apparently Adam wasn’t the only one being stupidly brave, but as he once said eleven years ago, in for a penny. 

“Children never do what they’re told,” Aziraphale added quickly with a nod. “In fact-” 

“Uh, uh uh,” Gabriel interrupted, holding one finger in the air. “This,” he said gesturing to their group of small children and a group of adults so varied Aziraphale rather thought was the start of an interesting joke. “All goes against the Great Plan. And we cannot tolerate that. The world must end.” 

“Hey Adam,” Brian cut in. “Which one is the angel and which one is the demon? I don’t know who to point my squirt gun at.” 

Gabriel wheeled around and stalked toward the rest of the Them. “I am the archangel fucking Gabriel and you little brats will not insult me that way.” Pepper shot her water gun at him. 

“That’s going to make Christmas awkward,” Wensley said quietly. 

The air crackled around Gabriel in a threatening manner. In a flash Aziraphale was standing between the children and Gabriel. “Aziraphale, move, these children need to be punished for their crimes.” 

“We are angels, and they are children.” Aziraphale said, his sword sparking to life. “We’re supposed to be the good guys. Good guys don’t threaten children.” 

“They do if they get in the way of the great plan,” Gabriel replied coolly. 

“I’ve been thinking about that lately,” Aziraphale said, taking a step forward, forcing Gabriel to take a step back. “We all know about the Great Plan. But if the ineffable plan is truly ineffable how do we know the ineffable plan is the Great Plan?” 

“That’s a great question Aziraphale,” Crowley shouted, drawing attention back to himself. “Lots of great questions floating around for millenia.” 

Gabriel and Be’elzebub leveled him with an unamused glare. “This isn’t over,” Gabriel said. “Especially not for you,  _ Crowley _ .”

“Relax, well call his father,” Be’elzebub said with a nod. “He’ll take care of it.” 

And then they were gone. 

Adam swallowed nervously. No wonder Dad and Pop has both agreed to give up their loyalties and raise him. Even if Adam had been pure evil, it would still seem better than what they’d been dealing with. He was confused by what they had said though. ‘His father’. He had two parents. They were right here, with him. 

Just as Adam opened his mouth about to ask Pop what they meant by that when Pop fell to the ground, hard. The ground was trembling now, Adam could feel it. Dad seemed a little more steady as well but everyone else seemed fine. 

“Oh Fuck!,” Pop was shouting now in a panic. He was writhing on the ground in pain. “Aziraphale! We’ve got a big fucking problem.” 

“What’s happening?” Adam asked as he stumbled over to Pop, trying to check on him. “I thought this was over.” 

“Armageddon is, don’t worry,” Pop said through gritted teeth. “This is personal.” 

“What?” 

The rumbling grew louder and louder and then suddenly, bursting forth from the ground was Satan himself. Oh.  _ That father _ . Dad was there now, his sword still in his hand, and still on fire. “What do we do Crowley?” 

“How the heaven should I know you’re the plan man!” Pop shouted back. “Look just take Adam and run like I said, Alpha Centauri is lovely this time of year. Should be for a century or two. You’ll be safe.” 

“I. Am. Not. Abandoning. You. To. Die.” Adam shouted over the chaos Satan's presence was causing he grabbed Pop by his scarf. “Either of you!” He turned his head to Dad. “So don’t you get any ideas either.” 

“So then what do we do?” Aziraphale shouted. 

Adam closed his eyes, any sense of how to prevent Armageddon had ended when Armageddon had been prevented. He couldn’t think of an idea. Dozens of half formed thoughts flew around his head but the overwhelming thought was “Danger!” 

Satan took another step toward them Dad put himself between Satan and Their family. “Crowley we need an idea. Now.” 

Pop forced himself to standing and snapped his fingers. Wind and the familiar feel of Pop’s magic rushed around Adam and when he opened his eyes he was in the desert. Dad and Pop were both there as well, wings out and looking better and cleaner than they did at the airbase. 

“Pop, what did you do?” Adam asked. 

“Stopped time, pocket dimension,” Pop answered clearly concentrating on maintaining this space. “It won’t hold forever, but I-“ his face fell into sadness. “I just wanted more time.” He fell back to his knees and looked up at them both, tears threatening to form. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for us, for you. More time.” 

“You’ve given it to us love, thank you,” Dad said gently. 

“I-I still don’t know what to do,” Adam confessed walking over to them both. “I don’t think I can fight him.” Adam feels tears begin to gather in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you. Either of you.” 

“You won’t,” Dad said placing his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “We’ve got you.” 

“No matter what happens, you’ve always had us. You’ll always have us,” Pop said. 

“You still can manipulate reality,” Dad said. “Maybe something?” He shrugged. 

“Dads right. Reality is still yours to control, and you’re a lot stronger than either of us right now.” 

Adam looked between his parents with a small smile, knowing this may be the last time he sees them as he basks in the moment. Wait. His parents. Adam’s eyes shot open. “I have an idea.” 

“What?” Pop asked with a confused frown but he stood back up nonetheless, taking a battle pose. 

“I have an idea, I think I can do this.” 

“Adam, you’re sure?” Dad asked gently. 

Adam nodded and turned around, grabbing Pop’s hand with his left hand and Dad’s with his right. “We can do this. I believe in us.” He looked at Pop with a small smile. 

“Right then, hold on tight,” Pop worked his magic and they were stumbling back on the tarmac. Adam gave both of his parents hands one last affectionate squeeze and then let go. 

“This is my disappointing son?” Satan asked, looking down at Adam both physically and metaphorically 

“I’m not your son!” Adam shouted back. He reached into his pocket and gently held the bundle of feathers there for luck. 

“What?” Satan snarled at him. “How dare you!?” 

“Me? How dare me?” Adam shouted right back. “How dare you? Where the hell have you been?” 

“Adam, have you lost your mind?” He heard Pop hiss behind him. 

Adam wasn’t deterred. “Parents are there for you. A real father teaches you how to dance. A real father shows you all the coolest music and movies. A real father makes you breakfast, asks how your day went, helps you with everything, answers questions.” Adam took a step forward with each sentence. “A real father loves you no matter what and is there for you ‘til the end. You’re not my father. And I’m not your  _ fucking _ son.” 

Power flowed through Adam and around the celestial forces present. And then Satan was gone. 

They had won. 

Crowley’s head whipped back and forth from Adam, to Aziraphale, to the witch and her boyfriend in a Witchfinder jacket, to the other kids, to Dog, then to Sgt. Shadwell and Madame Tracey. He was trying to comprehend what exactly just happened. But he didn’t think he fully comprehended everything and if he were being perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Boy wasn’t that a first?

Adam walked back toward them with a smile. And well, that was distraction enough from his own head and weird sensations that had settled over him. He wrapped his arms around Crowley. “I did it,” he said in disbelief. “It actually worked.” 

“It did,” Crowley said wrapping an arm around Adam. “You-You said. To Lucifer. Satan himself.” he trailed off. “Nope I got nothing that’s family friendly. Which I’m sure Dad noticed by the way.”

“I think it can be forgiven this time,” Aziraphale said with a laugh. “Sometimes no other words can suffice.” Adam moved to hug him then and Aziraphale dropped his flaming sword. Perhaps he should pay better attention to it. 

Crowley can’t think about it though, because they’re being rushed by Adam’s friends. 

“You told Satan to fuck off!” Brian said, his voice filled with admiration. “That is the most amazing thing I have ever seen.” 

“Actually, yes, this day just keeps getting cooler and cooler by the minute,” Wensleydale said with a shy smile. 

Pepper had a wide grin. “Best. Saturday. Ever.” 

“Ngk,” Crowley said, trying to come up with the words to convince the children this was not cool, or amazing, or whatever else they were thinking. But he couldn’t because he, somewhat reluctantly, agreed. He looked to Aziraphale for back up and the angel just shrugged. Great. Their collective conscience had taken a holiday. 

“Umm,” Newt, the witch’s boy toy, hesitantly began. “Does anyone know how long these soldiers will be out for? I don’t particularly fancy saving the world from nuclear and supernatural destruction only to be shot by an angry American.” 

“Not to worry laddie, I’ve got a finger,” Sgt. Shadwell said with a proud smile. 

To his credit Newt merely nodded. “Right.” 

“I think he’s got a point love,” Madame Tracey said with a small smile. 

They moved as a group out of the base. The children picked up their bicycles and they slowly walked away from the airbase, no one running ahead, all adults shambling together in a daze. The children were gleeful, but they stayed close. Crowley was grateful, he didn’t want any angels or demons sneaking up on the children, he’d make sure they got into their homes safely. 

“So, Mr. Crowley and the southern pansy?” He heard Shadwell ask, his voice thick with disbelief and not nearly as quietly as he thought he was being. “They’re-“ 

Madame Tracey sighed with infinite patience. “Yes, Mr. Shadwell.” 

“I mean, southern pansy, that’s expected, but Mr. Crowley?” 

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand and gave it a fond squeeze. They interlaced their fingers. Then a thought came back to Crowley, “Sgt. Shadwell, how do you know Aziraphale anyway?” 

Adam tried, and failed, to contain a giggle. They’d have to work on his poker face. But they had  _ time _ for that. Crowley smiled in spite of himself. 

“Well, there are many supporters of the Witchfinder Army.” 

“Wait, you employ the Witchfinder army?” Aziraphale asked, frowning with adorable confusion. 

“I told you I have a team of human operatives, Angel,” Crowley says with a shrug. They both did, it wasn’t a concern. 

“But they’re my human operatives.” 

Crowley stops walking. “What.” Adam’s giggles have grown into a loud impossible to ignore laugh. “Are you telling me, we have both been paying the same person, to do the same job, for years?” 

“At least since I was four,” Adam said, wiping tears from his eyes. “That I know of.” 

“Wow,” Brian whispers under his breath. 

“Are all supernatural beings this stupid?” Pepper asked. 

Crowley and Aziraphale share a pained look. “It’s entirely possible,” Aziraphale admits. 

“What’s really sad is that we may be the smartest ones,” Crowley adds with an involuntary shiver. The entire group hummed in agreement, having met the two head bosses for each side. Even Dog let out an agreeing little yap. 

“We really came close to the end of the world didn’t we?” Anathema asked cautiously. 

“But we didn’t!” Wensley replied. 

“Too close for comfort,” Anathema mumbled. 

“Right?” Crowley joked. He couldn’t take this conversation entirely sober any longer He imagined a bottle of Old Vine Zinfandel he’d been saving for a special occasion disappear from the wine fridge and appear in his hand, uncorked. He took a heavy sip and then passed the bottle to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale also took a long sip of the wine, but instead of passing it back to Crowley, he handed the bottle to Madame Tracey. “Thank you again, for the, uhh, lift,” Aziraphale said, a little shy. 

“Oh, it was no trouble at all,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Besides, happy to do my part.” She sipped at the wine. “Ooh, that’s nice.” 

Madame Tracey then passed it along to Sgt. Shadwell who really looked like he needed it the most. And in his defense, Crowley had to admit his worldview was probably the one most challenged by what had happened today, next, possibly, to Aziraphale’s own. He sipped it wordlessly and passed it on to Newt whispering. “I just shared wine with a demon.” 

“And yet, strangely enough, not the strangest thing we’ll have done today,” Newt said with a shrug. After his sip he passed it to Anathema. 

“I-I just. It was Adam. Adam was under my nose the entire time,” Anathema said with a confused frown of her own. “The whole time.” 

“In your defense, Adam wasn’t supposed to be under your nose,” Crowley said in a tone Adam knew usually meant there would be hell to pay. Probably not this time, but in general. 

“But you can’t say it didn’t help,” Adam said back, looking far too satisfied with himself. 

Bless it, Adam was right. Crowley took the bottle of wine back from Anathema. “What? Why?” She asked confused. 

By now Azirphale had conjured a bottle of his own which was also being passed around so Crowley took a sip for himself. “I mean no offense but a witch shows up close to Armageddon and we have no idea what side your playing for, or what you’re willing to do to prevent it.” Crowley took a sip. “Simple self preservation.” 

“I’d never kill a kid!” Anathema said taking the bottle of wine back. “Though I do suppose you didn’t know that until just now.” 

“Like I said, nothing personal.” Crowley stuck out his hand. “Water under the bridge?”

Anathema shook it. 

Aziraphale pushed Adam’s bicycle forward as Crowley carried him on his back, Dog trailing faithfully behind. “This was easier to do when he was five,” Crowley grumbled quietly. Adam had begun to nod off when they dropped Pepper off at her home. And that had been their first stop. While Aziraphale and Crowley both knew Heaven and Hell were likely done with the rest of the Them, they’d felt better seeing them home to their parents personally. 

“Yes, well, would you rather be bending over to push this,” Aziraphale asked knowing the answer was a firm ‘no.’ 

“Why am I so tired?” Adam mumbled, half awake. He rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder. 

“Larger miracles require a lot more brain power,” Crowley explained. “And celestial power channels through you. Even you probably burned yourself out a little.” 

“Only times I used to sleep before we got together was after official miracles,” Azriaphale agreed with a nod. “Removing the stone and all that? Napped for a day and a half.” 

“Sucks though,” Adam said, barely keeping his eyes open. “It’s not even that late.” 

“You saved the world,” Crowley explained as they turned onto Hogback lane. “You’re allowed to sleep for a long while, I think.” 

Aziraphale put Adam’s bicycle in the garage and then fixed the back door as he entered. “What happened here?” He asked with a frown. 

“Brian,” Adam mumbled. 

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a confused look. Crowley slowly made his way up the stairs, but bypassed Adam’s room, heading straight for theirs. He gently laid Adam down in the center of the bed and Aziraphale miracled him into pajamas. 

Once Aziraphale was convinced Adam was asleep for the night, he motioned to the hallway. Crowley followed. “I think there’s one last prophecy,” Aziraphale said. He handed the paper slip that had fallen out of Agnes Nutter’s book to Crowley. 

Crowley cracked a grin reading it. “So does that mean Plan 37b wasn’t a complete waste of time?” 

“I’m afraid so,” Aziraphale said fond, but tired. 

“So that means?”

Aziraphale sighed. “You were right, I was wrong.” 

Crowley hummed. “Angel.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Again.” 

  
  


Adam woke up to being forcefully dragged out of bed. Literally. Before he could even register what was fully happening he felt himself manhandled onto the floor and toward the stairs. A woman in a grey suit and a bald man with metal in his teeth drug him by his arms. All of Adam’s thrashing and fighting didn’t faze them in the least. Neither did Dog’s bites to their ankles.

“Stop!” Adam shouted. “Let me go!” He dug his heels into the rug of the hallway. “Dad! Pop!”

“Look what we found,” the man sneered as they took him down the stairs, his legs thumping uselessly on every stair and then out the back door. “In their bed of sin.” 

“Yes, their betrayals certainly know no bounds,” the woman said her voice eerily soft.

In the early morning sunlight Adam saw a sight that made his entire body freeze. Dad was in a similar position to himself, a redheaded woman had his left arm in her grip and behind his back and a pale man with black eyes had the other. The woman had sharp teeth she was baring at his dad, threatening to bite him. Pop was knelt down in the grass, his hands tied up behind his head in a surrender position. A shorter woman with short dark hair and in a suit stood behind him, pointing a holy water gun at the back of Pop’s head.

“It’s as you suspected. They’ve been raising the adversary as their own,” the woman holding Adam explained to the assembled angels and demons.

“I told you!” The blonde man shaped demon crowed. “I told you Crowley had a child!”

“Unbelievable,” The man in the grey suit from yesterday, Gabriel, said with a shake of his head. “This goes against so many laws of Heaven and Hell I can’t even begin to speculate why you thought this was acceptable or how you’d get away with this.”

Before anyone could respond Dog darted out from the house, running around various demons and angels trying to be intimidating.

“That’s the hellhound?” Beelzebub snarled. She turned to face Pop. “Is this some kind of sick joke to you?”

“Really wish it was,” Pop replied. Beelzebub stormed over to where Pop was knelt, and kicked him in the gut, causing him to double over. Adam could see Dad surge forward, trying to break the grip on him and get to Pop, but he couldn’t, they were both too strong. Then the blonde man twisted the arm in his grasp, causing Dad to cry out.

Adam sobbed as he shook his whole body trying to get out of the hold he was in. The woman who had his arm wrapped both of her hands around the back of his head, her fingernails digging into the skin of his cheeks, forcing him into a position in the yard where he could see both of his parents.She kept his head perfectly still. 

Gabriel, walked into the center of the triangle and gripped Dog by his scruff, lifting him high into the air. “This is truly pathetic,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust as he regarded Dog. He motioned toward Beelzebub. “Will you want to take care of this?”

“No, that thing,” she said with a sneer “Can rot here for all I care, it’s useless now.”

“His name is Dog!” Adam shouted despite himself.

Gabriel dropped Dog and suddenly a bush grew around Dog like a cage, shutting him in. The Archangel turned toward Adam. “You,” Gabriel said, his voice dripping with contempt, “need to zip it, you goddamn brat. The adults are talking.” He turned his back toward Adam then and waved a hand at the woman holding his face. She dug her nails in tighter, causing his skin to sting.

“Papa!” Adam shouted in spite of himself. “Daddy, it hurts, make it stop!”

“I’m here Adam.” Adam glanced over. Dad was looking at him intently. “I’m right here. It’s going to be alright.” Dad’s head nodded minutely. “Papa’s right here.”

Adam swallowed and his gaze drifted over to where Pop was now being held up by the bald man with metal in his teeth.

“Daddy?” Adam asked in a sob.

“Oh, your old Dad’s right here, Adam,” Pop said with all sarcastic enthusiasm he could muster. “I’m sure this is all one big misunderstanding.” The bald man must have tightened his grip on the back of Pop’s neck because he winced in pain.

“Enough of this,” Beelzebub declared. “We shall take care of the traitors and drag him,” they motioned toward Adam. “back in front of his father.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Pop gritted through his teeth. “Adam changed that.”

Gabriel frowned and stared at Pop long and hard. “You have no right to talk to me, after all you’ve done,” Gabriel said, his voice filled with contempt. He shook his head. “I really should have known it would be you. You have been nothing but a thorn in the almighty’s side, even before your fall.” Gabriel spit on Pop’s face.

“Stop that!” Dad shouted trying to wrench free once more.

“Oh you,” Gabriel snarled turning toward Dad. “Yes, let’s deal with this useless excuse for an angel first.” He walked to Dad, staring him eye to eye. “Traitor to heaven.”

“If I’m a traitor, why haven’t I fallen?” Dad asked, his voice full of barely contained fury.

Gabriel punched Dad in the stomach. “You won’t have the chance, we’re taking care of the problem far more permanently,” Gabriel said, his voice was ice cold. His face was full of judgment and disgust. “You let him  _ defile _ your sacred vessel. You laid with a demon and raised the Son of Satan as your own. You’re as good as fallen.”

“Strictly speaking, he was the one more likely to be defiling me,” Pop quipped. “If we’re being technical.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Gabriel shouted. He walked up to Pop again, the bald man forcing Pop to look Gabriel directly in the eye as Gabriel removed his sunglasses and flung them toward the edge of the garden. He shook his head minutely. “You know, I never understood why you did what you did. You gave up everything, your power, your status, to become some rank and file demon. We could have achieved so much more. You could have been so much more, and you’re not even middle management.” He crowded into Pop’s personal space as Adam heard Beelzebub laugh. “Pathetic.”

“Gabriel enough, please,” Dad cried out. “You-It doesn’t- He’s not-“ Dad tried to shake his head, but the demons held him firm.

“Oh, did he not tell you?” The blonde demon whispered in Dad’s ear. “Did Mr. Slick never tell you who he was before he fell?”

“Thinks he’s so important,” the sharp toothed woman hissed in his other ear. “But now he’s a nobody.”

“You angels think we forget who we are, our first names given to us by  _ her _ . Names we rejected.” Beelzebub walked up to Dad, standing incredibly close to him, enough to run a hand down his cheek in mock comfort. “We remember who we were,” Beelzebub explained. “And I know you all like to believe that remembering causes physical pain. And maybe it does others, but there was nothing stopping him. He could have told you at any time and didn’t.” She sank her fingers into the back of Dad’s head. “And doesn’t that burn, knowing he lied to you?”

“I didn’t have to lie,” Pop shouted before Dad could respond. “He figured it out years ago.” Pop moved his head just enough to be able to look at Dad. “He didn’t have to say anything, but he knew.”

“That’s bullshit,” the short haired Angel sneered, re-aiming the holy water gun. “Aziraphale isn’t nearly clever enough to figure that out.”

“Thanks for the ringing endorsement, Uriel,” Dad snarked. He kept eye contact with Pop. “But he’s right, I knew. I’ve known for a while.”

“Oh, is that so?” The man with metal in his teeth said. “What’s his name then?”

Dad took a deep breath. “Raphael.”

“Enough of this!” Gabriel shouted obviously frustrated, still standing before Pop. “You figured it out. So what? You’re all traitors and you’re all gonna die and we’re gonna make this brat here watch you go so he can learn his lesson.” Gabriel sighed. “I’m going to be so grateful to  _ her  _ when you’re _ finally _ no longer anyone’s problem.” He took the water gun from the angel named Uriel. The bald angel forced Pop to kneel before Gabriel. “And to think, I once considered you my equal.”

Gabriel lowered the gun and pointed it directly at Pop’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

“No!” Adam shouted thrashing wildly within the woman’s grasp, her nails scratching his face. She moved one hand to the nape of his neck practically paralyzing him with her unnaturally strong grip. Dad was also shouting and fighting against the restraint of the Demons around him, both desperately trying to get to Pop.

A stream of water hit Pop on the forehead, splashing all over his face. His hair was wet and water dripped down his nose. Pop merely frowned.

Gabriel pulled the trigger again. And again. And Again. He emptied the pistol onto Pop’s face.

“Do you plan on just mussing up my hair or does this have a point?” Pop asked through gritted teeth.

“What the fuck?” Gabriel shouted, tossing the gun in frustration. “Who the fuck checked this gun?”

“Y-you did,” Uriel whispered, her voice beginning to sound afraid.

“You even reblessed it yourself,” the woman holding Adam’s head said, fear flooding her voice as well.

Gabriel whipped around, facing Dad. “Take care of him then.”

Suddenly, there was a column of fire between Beelzebub and where Dad was held. The demons on either side of him pushed Dad into the fire, releasing their grip.

Dad stood in the hellfire, perfectly calm. Perfectly whole.

Adam felt the grip on him loosen slightly and when Dad stepped out of the fire, Adam elbowed the woman and made a break for Dad. They met in the middle and Dad stepped between the other celestial beings and Adam. Adam wrapped his arms tightly around his middle.

In the confusion Pop also broke his hold and ran over to them. He stood in front of Dad and Adam, his entire body coiled in protective stance. “You all need to leave, now,” Pop hissed. “Before we all figure out what else Adam has changed.” He stood up straighter. “What else Aziraphale and I can do to you now. You’ve hurt the only creatures in the entire planet I care about. And we’re stronger than ever now. Do you really want to test that?”

In a flash the demons and angels were all gone. Save Dad and Pop, of course.

Dad fell to his knees, breathing heavily. Adam moved so he was properly in Dad’s arms as they knelt on the ground. “Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath.

“A-Are they gone?” Azdam asked quietly.

Dad and Pop both closed their eyes and focused. “Yeah,” he heard Dad say. “Yeah, they’re gone.”

Pop sniffed offered them a hand. “Let’s get inside anyway. No point in sitting on the ground.” 

Pop waived his hand and freed dog from his prison. Dog followed them inside. Adam held him tight and collapsed back down onto the carpet. Dog licked his face and nuzzled into him, a comforting weight in his lap.

“Drink,” Dad mumbled. “I need a drink.” However, instead of going into the kitchen he collapsed onto the sofa. “Or a nap.”

“I could go for either as well, truth be told,” Pop walked into the kitchen and pulled out a flannel, drying his face carefully. Pop carefully started preparing coffee, pouring some creamy liqueur into his and Dad’s coffee cups.

“Adam, you want a drink?” Dad mumbled. “I think he deserves one.”

“I should object,” Pop said as he dried his hair and face carefully and a touch miraculously. “But right now I can’t really be bothered to care.” He sighed and poured Adam a small sample in addition to his cocoa. “Can’t hurt.” He carried the tray and set it on the coffee table before collapsing onto the sofa, Dad rearranging himself so his head rested in Pop’s lap.

They all sat in silence, afraid to move. The only sound that could be heard was their deep breathing. Finally Dad looked up at Adam. “Adam, your face,” he whispered gently.

Adam raised a hand and rubbed his cheeks and his fingers were suddenly sick. He pulled his hand away to find his fingertips covered with a mixture of tears and blood.

“Come here, dear,” Pop said gently. Adam shuffled on his knees over to him. He felt the familiar warmth of a miracle on his face and neck. “There you are. Much better.”

“Thanks Dad,” Adam mumbled before resting his head against “Pop’s’ knee. 

“Was hoping you’d figured that out,” ‘Dad’ mumbled, finally forcing himself into a sitting position.

Adam smiled softly. “I didn’t know when I first got out there. But I got the hint. ” 

“I’m sorry, Adam, tried to tell you as soon as we could,” ‘Dad’ mumbled finally picking up his mug. 

“Maybe we should switch back before we start drinking?” ‘Pop’ asked. 

“Fair point.” ‘Dad’ grabbed ‘Pop’ and kissed him. Their bodies became hazy and then they were themselves again. 

“D-Do you think they’ll leave us alone?” Adam asked quietly after a while. 

“With any luck, they’re running terrified,” Pop answered. “Or at least it’s going to take a long while for them to get the nerve to try something new.”

“If they can come up with something new,” Dad added. 

Adam and Pop hummed in agreement. 

Later that afternoon, after a midmorning to early afternoon nap for the entire family Crowley reclined with Aziraphale on a tartan blanket in the field behind their home. Adam had gone off with his friends to play who knows what, but he’d be fine. Crowley was quite certain this picnic was perhaps the laziest way to celebrate their victories over heaven and hell, but he also felt that he and Aziraphale earned the right to take perhaps the next century or so in a lazy fashion. 

Presently, Crowley was trapped by Heavenly forces. “I’m sorry Angel but I can’t help but think we’ve got this a little backwards,” he said with a chuckle. 

Aziraphale laughed and pressed the apple slice even more firmly against Crowley’s lips. He was in a playful mood, but so was Crowley so it was alright. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You are such a bastard,” Crowley said with a minute shake of his head. Finally he took a bite. “What ever did I ever do to deserve you?” 

“Something good?” Aziraphale teased. 

“Fuck you,” Crowley said with a kiss to Aziraphale’s fingertips. 

“Perhaps, later, though,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, laying down. “Not where people can see.” 

Crowley wrapped himself around Aziraphale, resting his head on his Angel’s chest. “I love you,” He said as his eyes drifted shut. 

Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around Crowley and pulled him even closer. “And I love you,” Azirphale said with another contented sigh. 

Crowley felt relaxed and happy enough he nearly considered falling asleep right there on Aziraphale. The sunday afternoon sun warmed him in a way that made his reptilian instincts content and peace warmed him from the inside out. 

Except for a few niggling questions. “Angel,” Crowley began hesitantly. 

Aziraphale hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Earlier, when you said you figured out who I was before-,” Crowley shifted uncomfortably, clinging to Aziraphale tighter. “Did you mean it? Or were you bluffing? I don’t care. I just-I don’t want you to think- that I was lying.” 

Aziraphale made a noncommittal sound. “I had pieced together that you had been important in heaven, you made the stars for goodness sake,” he explained. “But the specifics never mattered.” 

Crowley frowned and pushed himself up. That had not been in any of the answers he expected. He slithered up Aziraphale’s body so he could watch his face carefully. “Never mattered?” 

“Exactly,” Aziraphale replied as if that was a suitable answer. Crowley said nothing so he continued. “I admit, I was curious and did a bit of poking around, particularly right after Adam entered the picture and you and I became…” Aziraphale blushed slightly. “Intimate.” That made sense to Crowley, temptation and curiosity made sense to Crowley. They were as natural to him as breathing was to humans. “But then of course I got caught up in research, trying to prevent the apocalypse and so....” Aziraphale trailed off again. “Not my highest priority.” 

Crowley propped himself up, draping his torso over Aziraphale’s. “You mean that?” 

Aziraphale smiled at him and carded fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Of course. Though I must admit, your heavenly name was a bit of a surprise.” Aziraphale let out a small laugh. “I did always wonder why they stopped talking about Raphael.” 

Crowley laughed. “Surprised you bagged and shagged a former archangel?” 

Aziraphale’s blush darkened. “Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” he said quickly. “And besides, I realized a long time ago, that I had fallen in love with a demon named Crowley, not whatever Angel you had been.” 

Crowley froze, an unnecessary breath catching in his throat. Crowley choked on any words he could possibly say to that. “I-I love you too, Angel. For so long. And I always will. And I can say it more now, you know.” 

“It’s like you said, we have more time now.”

Crowley kissed Aziraphale gently on the lips. Crowley desperately wanted to take Aziraphale home and show how much he loved Aziraphale. 

Crowley slowly developed a list of things that he wants to do now, as they lazily kiss in the afternoon sun. Make love to Aziraphale. Figure out what the little tingling sensation he’s had since Adam told Satan to fuck off was. Find a way to memorialize that moment forever. Figure out why the witch, Anathema had texted him asking him to come over. Get Adam’s friends to stop saying they’ve pledged their lives in service to the antichrist aloud. 

But now, he had time. They had all the time in the world. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo-eeee. It's finished. Well not entirely. I plan on writing shorter vignettes and things that didn't make it into this fic. Tales from Adam growing up that didn't make it into this fic, fics dealing with the aftermath of this. Adam's teenage year shenanigans. I even have a vague idea for what might turn into a proper sequel, but I gotta let it percolate more. I'll make this into a series once I write and post the first one so watch this space. 
> 
> Big Shout out to my BFF and my cosplay partner for Beta'ing most chapters and being a sounding board for ideas. I've needed that. 
> 
> Thank you all for following this fic along. It meant a lot to have your support. I appreciate each comment, kudos, and bookmark with all that I have.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, reviews, and whatever are always appreciated! Happy to put this out there!
> 
> Tumblr is Yarsian


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